


You're a Matter of Urgency

by annemari



Series: You're a Matter of Urgency [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Hospitals, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annemari/pseuds/annemari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard and Mikey's relationship hasn't always been the easiest, but they're happy with where they've ended up. Gerard can't imagine wanting or needing anyone besides Mikey. But what happens when Mikey gets into a car accident and the nurse looking after him turns out to be really fucking awesome? And how does Frank feel about falling for two brothers at the same time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Matter of Urgency

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bandom Big Bang 2012 Wave Three.
> 
> Thank you to **romanticalgirl** and **fly_meaway** for being absolutely wonderful betas! Thanks, also, to **monkey_pie** for not only making me a fantastic mix, which can be found in the end notes, but also for helping me with details about nursing. Much love to **turps** , who was the first person I told this story to and who encouraged me to write it. Last but not least, thank you to the mods! <333
> 
> Title from _Glass In The Park_ by Alex Turner.

Gerard can't really remember how he got to the hospital. The whole thing's a blur—Gabe's phone call, Gerard rushing out the door while Gabe gave him directions. He's not sure what he yelled at the cab driver and he's not sure how much he paid him, but he hopes it was enough to make up for the yelling. He thinks the driver broke several speed limits for him.

He rushes through the hospital doors and runs up to the front desk. Before he gets a chance to ask the receptionist anything though, he's distracted by someone being wheeled in through the emergency doors. Gerard almost loses his footing, loses his dinner, because it's Mikey. There, on the gurney, and they're wheeling him away, and all Gerard can see is Mikey's face, how his eyes are closed.

He runs after them, after his brother. They're moving so fast, and people are shouting, but he gets there, he's there, and he reaches out because he needs to touch Mikey. He needs to feel that he's warm—warm and not cold at all, not Mikey.

Someone pulls him away, and Mikey's eyes are still closed. Gerard tries to follow, but they won't let him through the door. He can't—he looks at his hand, the hand that was touching Mikey—he was real, he was there, warm and still _Mikey_ —and sees that it's red. It's blood, it's blood red, and Gerard thinks his legs might give out.

He stumbles—someone's pulling him _away_ , or are they just holding him up, he can't even tell anymore—but his hand is still red, and he can't see Mikey anymore.

"Mikey. _Mikey_." Gerard vaguely realizes that he's screaming now, probably has been for a while.

"Please calm down, sir," someone is saying, and Gerard wants to yell at them, because how can they tell him that, how, but it's not important right now, all that matters is Mikey.

"Please, sir, you have to step back." There's a guy gently pushing him away from the doors, short, but strong, and Gerard doesn't—he can't—

"They're operating on him right now, let them do what they do best."

Operating. They're operating on _Mikey_ , and Gerard can't breathe. Everything's too clear all of a sudden, bright and painful.

"No, hey, easy. Easy now, slower. Come on, like me. Slow breaths."

Gerard squeezes his eyes shut and tries to calm his breathing, but he can't, it hurts, it fucking hurts, and Mikey—

"Listen to me," someone's saying. "Breathe like me, okay. Just like this. Come on, slow breaths." The voice is calm, soothing, and Gerard tries to latch on to it.

He needs to calm down, he needs to keep breathing. For Mikey, because it's not gonna help Mikey if he freaks the fuck out. Because Mikey was in a fucking _car accident_ and Gerard needs to be there when they're done operating on him. He's gonna be there and he's gonna be okay. He listens to the guy telling him to breathe and slows his breaths.

Gerard realizes he's sitting down now, but he doesn't remember how he came to be there. Someone's hands are on his shoulders, too comfortable there, and for a second he thinks it's—but no. Mikey's not— _Mikey_.

"Sir, look at me. Sir?"

Gerard blinks rapidly, and looks up. He comes face to face with a guy with dark, longish hair and brown eyes. He can't make out any of the features, he can't _focus_. He takes another deep breath and realizes the guy is saying something.

"—your name?"

The guy's hands are still on his shoulders. Gerard swallows hard. "Gerard," he says. "Gerard Way."

"And Michael Way is your..."

Gerard squeezes his eyes shut. "Mikey. Mikey, he's my brother."

Oh, fuck, he can't do this. He keeps flashing back to earlier, to Mikey telling him he was going out with some of his friends, to Mikey asking him to come along. To him telling Mikey that he needed to work on the new scenes he and Becky had come up with. To Mikey kissing him goodbye before he left. To Gabe calling, frantic, saying, "Gee, fuck, oh fuck, there was an accident."

Gerard opens his eyes and realizes the guy has taken his hands off Gerard's shoulders and stepped back. He's standing in front of Gerard, holding a clip-board, and Gerard focuses on that, on the way his fingers wrap around it. Shit, are those knuckle tattoos? He wonders briefly if those are even allowed in a hospital. 

He's vaguely aware that the guy's saying something, asking something, but Gerard's brain is all fuzzy and he can't make sense of it. He hears the guy saying Mikey's name, and he looks up.

"Yeah," the guy says. "Okay, Gerard, why don't you tell me about Mikey?"

Gerard takes a couple of deep breaths and looks down at his hands. "He's—Mikey's amazing," he says, but no, that's not enough. "He's really smart," he tries again. "He sees layers in everything. He loves movies and music, and comic books and—" It's still not _enough_. 

He needs this guy to get it, to realize that Mikey's so very special, but Gerard doesn't know how to put it into words right now, not the way Mikey deserves anyway.

"He's the best brother anyone could ever ask for," Gerard says, looking up at the guy. "He's the best person I know."

"Okay," the guy says, and smiles. "Why don't you tell me about what kind of music he likes?" He steps forward and sits down next to Gerard; looks at him, expectant.

Gerard dutifully starts listing Mikey's favorite bands, the bands they've seen together, the bands Mikey got him into, the lot of them. He's halfway through telling the guy about The Smashing Pumpkins at Madison Square Garden when his throat seizes up and he can't get any words out, because oh fuck, oh fuck, he's in a fucking hospital and Mikey's _hurt_ and what if—

"Hey, whoa," the guy says, putting a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "Breathing, Gerard. Remember, we talked about breathing."

Gerard shakes his head desperately and clutches at the edge of the chair. "He can't die." 

The guy doesn't break eye contact with him. "He won't."

Gerard inhales sharply. "You can't promise that," he says, voice breaking.

"I know," the guy says. "But he won't."

Gerard lets out a short laugh that ends in a sob and looks down. It shouldn't make him feel better, but it does. He won't die, he won't, he won't.

"Aw, shit," the guy says. "Listen, Gerard, I gotta go." Gerard looks up, watches the guy stand up. "Wait here, okay. Someone will be with you as soon as the surgery's over."

Gerard nods, slowly. He's gonna sit here and wait. He can do that, even without the guy sitting next to him. He'll wait.

"And keep breathing, okay," the guy says, touching his arm. "I'll be really fucking pissed if I come back later and you have fucked up on the whole breathing thing."

Gerard takes a deep, slow breath in, lets it out. He looks at the guy's hand resting on his upper arm. Those are definitely knuckle tattoos.

"Good," the guy says. He smiles at Gerard before he leaves. Gerard closes his eyes and keeps breathing.

~

Gerard's not sure how much time passes. He's still sitting there on the plastic chair, eyes closed and breathing steadily, like the guy with the knuckle tattoos told him to, when he becomes aware of someone stopping in front of him.

"Mr. Way?"

He opens his eyes and looks up, and it's the doctor, it must be. He looks like a doctor. Gerard gets to his feet.

"Is he—"

That's all he manages to get out before he has to stop and swallow against the bile rising in his throat. Oh god, what if—Mikey. He can't even speak. He can't get the words out.

There's a hand on his arm, then, and someone asking, "Dr. Grater, what is the status of Mr. Way's brother?"

Gerard takes a shallow breath and stares at the doctor. He needs to focus on this, focus on what the doctor's saying.

"He's stable," the doctor says. "He has several fractured ribs, but there's no damage to his lungs. There's no evidence of brain injury, though there's the chance of a concussion. The most problematic was the wound to his right side, but we managed to stop the bleeding. He's currently sleeping off the anesthesia."

"So he's okay?" Gerard chokes out, voice breaking.

"It is possible that he will make a full recovery."

"Possible?" Gerard echoes.

"Can he see him?" Knuckle Tattoos asks. Gerard thinks he still has a hand on Gerard's arm. He's abruptly grateful to this guy for asking all the questions Gerard can't force out. He's still stuck on the doctor saying 'possible', like there's a chance—

"We're going to move him from the recovery room. A nurse will come by as soon as that's done and he's been settled in his room and ready for visitors."

Gerard takes another breath and closes his eyes. He can see Mikey. He's fine, he's going to be _fine_ , he has to, and he can see him soon.

"I would advise you to go home and get some sleep, Mr Way," the doctor says. "Your brother probably won't wake until morning."

Gerard shakes his head. "But I can still see him, right?" he asks, his voice rough.

"Of course," the doctor says. "But—"

Gerard sits back down. "I'll wait," he says quietly.

"Hey," Knuckle Tattoos says. "It probably won't take long. You can see him soon."

Gerard looks up—the doctor has left and Knuckle Tattoos is standing right in front of Gerard, eyes sincere and a reassuring little smile on his face. Gerard realizes he still doesn't know the guy's name.

"Okay," Gerard nods, and swallows heavily. "I—what's your name?"

The guy looks surprised for a moment, but smiles then. "Frank."

"Thanks, Frank," Gerard says and looks back down at his hands. If Frank responds, Gerard doesn't hear it. He closes his eyes—he'll see Mikey soon. Mikey will be fine, he's fine, he's fine.

~

He has no idea how much time passes until a nurse shows up and tells him he can go see Mikey. He thinks it's still the same night, but he's not even sure of that, and right now it doesn't matter.

The nurse shows him into the room, and Gerard has to stop and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment, take deep breaths. Mikey's lying on the bed, bandaged and pale and so fucking _young_. There are gashes on his face, and a bruise high on his right cheek. He's hooked up to a monitor and there's an IV drip attached to him. He's small, so small in that big hospital bed.

The nurse says something, something about a call button and coming by later to check up on him, but Gerard doesn't really hear it.

There's a chair next to the bed, and Gerard sits down in it and leans forward to take off his boots. His head swims a little, but he breathes through it and quickly shucks the boots off.

He gets up slowly and just stands there for a bit, watching Mikey breathe. The heart monitor is beeping, too loud for him to properly hear Mikey. The bed is wide and Mikey's small and Gerard is so very very careful as he climbs on the bed and settles down on his side next to Mikey. Mikey doesn't stir. 

He thinks someone comes by at one point, and he thinks they tell him he should leave, but he doesn't move and they don't make him. He doesn't look away from Mikey.

Mikey keeps breathing, slow but steady. It helps calm Gerard down, helps him focus just a bit more on his surroundings. The next time someone walks in, Gerard looks up, looks behind him. It's the guy from earlier—Frank.

"Hey, Gerard," Frank says quietly and moves so Gerard can see him without having to crane his neck. "How's he doing?"

Gerard look back down at Mikey. He's breathing, but he's still asleep, hasn't even moved in the time Gerard's been there. He looks up at Frank. "He's not waking up."

Frank takes a small step forward. "He will."

Gerard breathes in. "But—"

"He's sedated," Frank says. "He needs to rest. But he'll wake up."

Gerard looks back at Mikey. "Okay." He can wait. He'll wait as long as he has to.

He realizes the arm he's lying on has gone numb, and he doesn't want to move—he's close enough to Mikey that he can hear him breathe clearly, can see if Mikey moves his eyelids even the slightest bit—but he can't deny that he feels the need to change positions. He slowly pushes himself up to a sitting position. He's trying to be careful, but the bed still sways a little and creaks. Mikey doesn't react at all, his breathing just as even as before.

He startles a little when he hears footsteps and realizes that Frank hasn't left yet. He has no idea how long Frank has been standing there.

"Time's being weird," Gerard mutters, still staring at Mikey.

"Yeah?" Frank asks. "Is it not linear or something?"

Gerard spares him a brief look—there's a small smile on Frank's face, the slightest quirk of his lips. He's moved closer to the bed. Gerard looks back at Mikey. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's _not_ linear. But I—I feel like I keep losing it. Like, like little flashes. Like there's nothing grounding me. Like I need to count Mikey's breaths to keep track of it."

"You know," Frank says, "counting his heartbeats would probably be easier."

Gerard shrugs. The harsh beeping is somewhat reassuring, sure, but it's not the same as focusing on Mikey's shallow breaths, so familiar to Gerard.

"Hey," Frank says. "Maybe you should get some rest." He sounds soothing.

Gerard doesn't look away from Mikey. "I'm waiting for him to wake up."

"Okay," Frank says slowly. "Okay, I get that. But what if when he wakes up he'll find you've gotten sick or passed out."

Gerard shakes his head. He's fine.

"You don't want him to worry, do you?" Frank presses.

Gerard swallows, hard. "I'm fine," he chokes out.

"Okay," Frank says again. "Okay. Well, how about you at least drink something."

Gerard thinks about it for a second, then nods. He realizes he's pretty thirsty now that Frank points it out. He can't remember the last time he ate or drank something. He thinks he was going to kitchen when the phone rang, but he can't really remember that either.

"For future reference, you can get coffee and tea and other stuff just down the hall." Frank's moving around the room now. It's making Gerard a little dizzy, even though he's not looking at him.

Coffee, Frank mentioned coffee. The only thing Gerard wants more than coffee right now is for Mikey to open his eyes, but when he lifts his hands for a brief moment he can tell they're shaking too hard for him to be able to hold the coffee cup without spilling it.

"Here," Frank says and steps closer. Gerard looks up to see him holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. "I want to get your hydration levels back up again before I trust you with coffee." He's smiling at Gerard. Gerard leans forward, just a little, and sips at the water.

Gerard drains the cup, then settles back against the wall again. Frank fills the glass again and steps close enough that Gerard can drink without having to lean forward. Gerard thinks he can probably hold the glass on his own now, but he only gets about half of it down anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

Frank pulls back, but he doesn't walk away or leave. "Did you—are you here to check up on him?" Gerard asks, suddenly realizing. Maybe Frank wants him to get out of the way. He's not sure if he can do that, but he will, for Mikey.

"Sort of," Frank shrugs. "His bandages don't need changing before morning, and we'll go off the monitors for vitals until he wakes up. Actually I just got off my shift, but I wanted to check up on you guys before I went home."

"Oh," Gerard says and furrows his brow. "Okay."

Frank raises his eyebrow. "Is that okay?" 

Gerard can't tell if he's really looking for an answer, but he still nods and says, "Yeah, of course."

Frank gives him a small smile at that and nods. "Okay, then."

Mikey's breath hitches a little on the next intake. Gerard turns back to him immediately. Mikey's eyelids are moving, just a bit, but they are.

"Mikey?" Gerard whispers, hesitantly reaching out for Mikey's arm. His hand hovers, fingertips barely grazing Mikey.

A little crease appears in Mikey's eyebrows, and then he blinks his eyes open, just like that.

"Mikey," Gerard says, smiling and resting his hand on the inside of Mikey's elbow. "Hey."

Mikey's eyes settle on his; he looks confused, worried. "Gee?" he mouths.

"I'm here." Gerard moves his hand from Mikey's elbow to his cheek, gently brushing it. "It's okay."

Mikey closes his eyes, opens them again. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, just a rough exhale.

"Here," Frank says. "Drink, just a little bit."

Gerard startles a little when he realizes Frank has moved closer without him noticing. Frank holds the straw out to Mikey, and Mikey takes a couple of sips. He looks back at Gerard.

"I'm in a hospital," he tells Gerard.

Gerard swallows tightly. "Yeah."

"The car—we—what about the others?"

"They're okay," Gerard says. "They're fine, don't worry." Gerard had almost forgotten about them, but if he tries he can remember Gabe saying that they were fine, they were being taken to a different hospital. It doesn't matter right now, not to Gerard.

Mikey closes his eyes and nods, just a bit. He opens his eyes again, slowly. "Tired," he whispers.

"I know," Gerard says. "Go back to sleep. It's okay."

Mikey obediently shuts his eyes and soon his breathing evens out again. Gerard keeps stroking his cheek, gently, so very gently. Mikey woke up. He's okay, he woke up.

Frank clears his throat, quietly, and Gerard startles a little, pulls his hand back.

"Sorry," Frank says. "I—"

"He woke up," Gerard says, interrupting him. He turns to look at Frank. It seems like Frank's clearer than he was before. More solid. Maybe Gerard's just better at focusing on him right now. Mikey woke up.

"Yeah," Frank says, smiling. "Yeah, he did."

"Are you gonna ask me to leave now?" Gerard asks, frowning. He doesn't think Frank would, but if not him, then maybe one of the other nurses. "Do I have to go? I can't, I can't leave him, he—"

"Whoa, whoa," Frank says. "It's okay, Gerard. No one's gonna make you leave tonight."

Gerard takes a breath, then another. "Okay," he says. "Just, I can't—"

"You don't have to," Frank says, and Gerard looks back at Mikey. He can't leave him here like this, he won't.

"I won't leave him," he says.

"I know," Frank says. "You don't have to."

Gerard takes a deep breath and nods.

"But, hey," Frank says. "I should leave now, my shift's officially over anyway. You're gonna be okay here, right?"

Gerard blinks and looks up at Frank. Frank seems concerned. "Yeah," Gerard says, a little sharply. He can look after his own brother.

Frank quirks his lips a little, not quite a smile. "Okay, well, here's the call button, see." He points at it, and Gerard doesn't tell him that someone already did that before. 

"Just to remind you," Frank says. "But don't worry about falling asleep. He's being monitored." Gerard nods again. "Other nurses will probably come by at some point. And I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Gerard says and turns back to Mikey. He barely notices Frank leave.

Mikey doesn't look any different than he did before, before he woke up, but to Gerard it feels like a world of difference. Mikey opened his eyes, he talked, he was fine. He saw that Gerard was here, looking after him. He was fine, he's fine.

Gerard startles when someone walks in, but it's just Frank again. Gerard frowns in confusion, but then he smells it. Frank brought him coffee.

Frank holds the cup out to him and Gerard takes it carefully. "Thanks," he whispers.

"No problem," Frank says. "But do try to get some rest, okay."

Gerard nods, looks down at the cup. He won't, and Frank must know that, and he didn't have to bring him coffee, but he did. He looks up at Frank and tries to give him a smile, something to show he's grateful.

He's not sure how well it comes out, but Frank smiles back, so it must not have been too bad. Frank nods and leaves again. Gerard takes a sip of the coffee and settles in to watch over Mikey.

~

Frank groans when his phone alarm goes off a little after five and pulls a pillow over his head. Why the fuck did he agree to cover Jamia's morning shift. Too late to back out of it now, though.

He grumbles and throws the pillow at his phone, which is insistently beeping, but misses and is left with nothing to help block out the sound.

"Fucking fine," Frank grumbles and drags himself out of bed.

He gets to the hospital just in time to catch Jamia leaving, and he remembers why he agreed to take over—she's been here over twenty-four hours, covering for two sick nurses, while he had the chance to go home for a bit less than five hours of sleep. He would have gotten it, too, if he hadn't gone by Mikey Way's room before leaving. He's glad he went, though, glad he was able to help his brother—Gerard, he remembers—and make sure he was doing okay.

Jamia stops on the way out to half-heartedly punch him in the shoulder. He grins and goes to ruffle her hair. She makes a face at him and elbows him in the ribs instead before kissing his cheek and heading for the door.

"You owe me," he calls after her, but she doesn't even dignify that with a response. She's one of his best friends, and they've been here too long to still be counting favors.

He checks up on some of his urgent cases at first, then notices that he's been given Michael Way, the car accident brought in last night.

Gerard is still up on the bed. He's leaning against the wall and he looks utterly exhausted. There are empty coffee cups on the table next to the bed. Gerard's staring at a notepad resting on his knees, blinking slowly.

"Hey," Frank says and Gerard starts, looking up.

"Hi," he says, brow furrowing. "...Frank, right?"

"Yeah," Frank says, smiling. He's glad Gerard at least seems aware enough to remember people's names. "Have you been up all night?"

Gerard looks down at the notepad and bites his lip. He lifts his hand; he's holding a pencil and his hand is black, covered in smears of carbon. He pulls his knees up and holds the notepad steady with one hand as he starts drawing.

Frank walks closer. He's here for Mikey, really, but Mikey's still asleep, his heart rate and breathing steady, so Frank knows he's okay for the moment. "Gerard?" he asks. "Did you get any sleep?"

Gerard pauses, then looks up at Frank. He shakes his head. "No," he says slowly. "One of the nurses brought these for me." He lifts the pencil and notepad. "I've been drawing."

"All night?"

Gerard shrugs and shifts on the bed. He looks down at Mikey, and the furrow of his brow deepens. "He's still asleep. He woke up for a bit, and I got him water, but that was—during the night, I think. What time is it?"

He looks at Frank in askance.

"Eight," Frank says. "And it's good he's sleeping, remember? He needs rest."

Gerard turns back to his brother and Frank circles the bed so he can get better access to Mikey. He checks Mikey's readings and they look good.

Frank needs to check the wound on Mikey's side, so he gently pulls the covers away from the area and lifts Mikey's hospital gown.

"What are you doing?" Gerard asks, sounding worried.

"I just need to check his wound," Frank says.

The bed moves and creaks and there's the sound of feet hitting the floor. Frank pulls his bandaging equipment closer and focuses on Mikey's side.

"Is it okay?" Gerard asks right next to him. "Is he—"

"Please step back," Frank says, going for formal. "I need a bit more space to work."

Gerard takes a step back, but he keeps hovering. Frank takes a deep breath and gently removes the bandages.

Mikey stirs at that and lets out a low moan.

"Oh god," Gerard says. "Mikey." He starts forward again, and Frank can feel him hesitate right next to him, as if he's not sure where he's allowed to go.

"Go to the other side of the bed and hold his hand," Frank instructs him calmly. Mikey whimpers a little, but Gerard's already there, grasping his hand and softly murmuring, "It will be okay, Mikey, you're okay."

"It hurts," he hears Mikey say, followed by more reassurances from Gerard.

Frank finishes quickly and cleans up, then administers a shot of morphine into Mikey's IV.

"There," he says to Mikey. "Is that better?"

Mikey nods at him, slowly, then turns his head back toward Gerard. He's out again soon after that.

Gerard's breath hitches a little and he covers his forehead with one hand, the other still clutching Mikey.

"Hey," Frank says gently. "His wound looks good, and all his vitals are in range. He's doing well."

"He's hurting," Gerard says, voice muffled. He drops his hand on the bed, looks up at Frank. His eyes look blurry and red and really fucking tired. "He's hurting, and I can't _do_ anything."

"You're here for him," Frank says. "Trust me, that helps a lot."

Gerard still looks torn, but he nods slowly.

"You should rest," Frank says.

Gerard glances at the bed, like he's assessing it. "Mikey should rest," he says, sounding determined. "I shouldn't bother him."

"He probably won't even notice you climbing on it," Frank says, even though he shouldn't really encourage him.

"No," Gerard says, shaking his head vigorously. He sways a bit and Frank quickly grasps his elbow. Fuck.

Gerard blinks at him, then says, "I'm fine. I just—dizzy. But I'm fine."

"You need to _rest_ ," Frank says and pulls his hand away. "Do you have any family nearby? Your parents?"

Gerard shakes his head, more slowly this time. "They're on vacation," he says. "I haven't—I'll tell them soon, but I don't want them to worry."

Frank frowns and doesn't say that with no one else here to worry it's clear Gerard's going to wear himself out.

"How about any friends who can come stay while you get some rest?" he asks. "If you don't want to leave him alone."

Gerard glares at that. "I can take care of my brother." Before Frank gets the chance to say that that's not what he meant, he adds, "They told me they don't want a lot of people in here, at least not right now. And I'm not leaving."

Frank sighs and runs a hand over his face. "At least get some sleep," he says. "Please."

Gerard lets out a shaky breath and seems to deflate a little, not as hostile as before. He drags a chair closer to Mikey's bed and plops down. He looks up at Frank, expectant, and Frank shrugs.

"Just get some rest, okay," he says.

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Okay."

Frank nods and leaves him be. He's halfway down the hall when realizes he's left his clipboard behind. When he goes back for it, Gerard's asleep, leaning forward, his head resting on his arm on the mattress while his free hand is curved protectively over Mikey's.

Frank smiles, grabs his clipboard and quietly backs out of the room.

~

Gerard's still there the next day. Frank's not sure if he has moved at all.

"I think he's only gone out to pee and get coffee," Mikey says. They're both looking at Gerard, asleep in the chair. "He's always here when I wake up."

Mikey sounds somewhere between pleased and worried. Mostly he just sounds tired, but when Frank looks at him he's staring intently at Gerard. His gaze is almost as intense as Gerard's.

"So he hasn't eaten?" Frank asks.

"I don't know," Mikey says. "Whenever I ask him he says he's fine and tells me not to worry."

Frank frowns and changes Mikey's bandage, then checks his vitals.

"I think he's starting to smell," Mikey says, wrinkling his nose. "But I can't really tell. What do you think?"

"I think we're past that point," Frank says. He continues charting Mikey's stats. Gerard's asleep now anyway, and Frank doesn't really want to wake him up to tell him he should maybe go home for a bit.

"So you're feeling okay?" he asks Mikey. "No really intense pain? Feeling like you're gonna black out?"

"Well it still hurts when the painkillers start to wear off but not as much as yesterday. I think if I tried to get up I couldn't really manage, though."

"Yeah," Frank says. "You're definitely not there yet, but it's good that the pain is lessening. You don't feel nauseous? Headaches?"

"Just a little woozy when I try to lift my head," Mikey says.

Frank nods and closes his clipboard. "Everything looks good," he says. "They're probably gonna move you to a different room at some point, off the post-surgery floor and into a regular room."

"Oh," Mikey says. "Okay. Do you know when?"

"Not yet," Frank says. "Look up." Mikey compiles and Frank shines a light in his eyes.

"But that means I'm doing better, right."

"Yeah, you're doing well," Frank says.

"I should tell Gerard," Mikey says. "Maybe he'll stop worrying as much." Frank certainly hopes so; maybe at least as much that he'll go home for a little while. Frank really doesn't want to have to remove him by force or anything, but if Gerard doesn't move even to eat then he's going to be Frank's next patient. 

At least he's sleeping right now, instead of spending the whole day and night awake watching his brother. "I should tell him right now," Mikey says, decidedly.

"Maybe wait for him to wake up," Frank suggests. "He seems pretty beat."

"No, he'll sleep better if he knows," Mikey says. "I don't want him to worry."

Frank wants to argue, but it's clear this is important for Mikey and he doesn't want to agitate him. Mikey's been calm so far, and Frank doesn’t want to impede his recovery by upsetting him.

"Gerard," Mikey says gently. Frank's about to say that he doubts that's gonna work, Gerard seems to be fast asleep, but Gerard stirs and opens his eyes. He sits up fast.

"Mikey?" he asks, reaching out.

"I'm fine," Mikey says. "Frank says they're gonna move me to a different room soon."

Gerard rests his hand on Mikey's arm and looks up at Frank. "A different room?"

"That means he's doing better," Frank says and Gerard nods, looks back at Mikey. "It won't be today, but tomorrow, maybe."

Gerard nods again and sits up even straighter, cracks his neck. He looks a little bleary-eyed, still, and he yawns suddenly and rubs at his eyes. Frank takes the opportunity.

"You need to eat and rest, dude," he says. "You've been here for almost three days. You should get some air."

Gerard looks up at him, eyes wide. "I don't—"

"He's right," Mikey says. Frank sees Gerard frown and start to say something, but Mikey cuts him off. "You should go home, eat and shower, and get a change of clothes, at least. And bring me some comic books."

"Mikey," Gerard says, plaintively. 

"Gee, please," Mikey says.

"But—"

"I'll be fine," Mikey says, and looks right at Frank. "Frank will look after me, right?" He raises his eyebrow and Frank nods.

"Yeah," he says, looking from Mikey to Gerard. "I will."

Gerard still looks torn, but Mikey nudges his hand with his fingertips, says, "Please."

Gerard bites his lip. "You're sure you'll be okay."

Mikey rolls his eyes. "I'm at the hospital," he says, and Frank thinks he sees Gerard flinch. Mikey must have noticed it, too, because he covers Gerard's hand with his, gently wraps his fingers around Gerard's wrist. "There are people looking after me. I'm fine."

Gerard takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, then and leans down to kiss Mikey's forehead. He whispers something to Mikey that Frank doesn't hear.

Frank looks away and busies himself with cleaning up his bandaging supplies.

"You'll watch over him," Gerard says, and Frank starts, looks back at him.

"Of course," he says. He doesn't add, _It's my job_. He feels that's not going to assure Gerard as much as it would some other family members. He's mostly learned to read people by now, to know how's best to placate them.

"Okay," Gerard says, and nods at Frank, then looks back at Mikey. "I'll be back soon."

"I know," Mikey says. "Go."

Gerard takes another deep breath, and Mikey says, more insistent, "Go."

Gerard wrings his hands together. Frank's had to deal with enough people unwilling to leave. He says, as nonchalant as he can manage, "The faster you go, the faster you'll get back." He doesn't want to bring out the, _you're making him worry and that's not good for him_ card yet.

Gerard frowns at him. "That doesn't—if I don't leave at _all_ , then—"

" _Gerard_ ," Mikey says, and Gerard jumps a little.

"Yes," he says. "Yes, fuck, okay." He turns abruptly and heads toward the door.

"Shower and comics," Mikey calls after him. "And you better eat something."

Gerard rushes out the door, like if he looks back he wouldn't be able to leave. Frank smiles fondly. He's met numerous family members who have, on some occasion, been even forced to leave, but for some reason Gerard's obvious love for his brother stands out to him.

He shrugs it off and turns to Mikey. "You know, I can't actually be here all the time," Frank says apologetically.

"No, I know," Mikey says. "I'm fine, I can totally reach the call button and everything. There's just no way he would have left otherwise."

Frank nods and starts to leave when he notices a piece of paper peeking out under Mikey's pillow. The sheets were changed earlier, so they must not have been there for long.

He pulls them out—there's a lot more than just one piece of paper there—and sees they're sketches. Gerard's sketches, the ones he kept drawing while Mikey was asleep. 

Frank flips through them quickly. They're great; they have this sort of comic book vibe. Most of them are of Mikey, but of Mikey doing things—listening to music, playing guitar, drinking coffee. Flying over what Frank thinks must be Central Park, wearing a superhero costume. There's not one of Mikey lying in a bed, not one where he doesn't look nothing less than completely alive.

"Frank?" Mikey asks, and Frank realizes he's just standing there, next to Mikey's pillow, not doing or saying anything. 

He clears his throat and steps back a little, so Mikey doesn't have to crane his neck too much to see him. "I found these," he says, and hands the sketches over.

Mikey takes them slowly and looks through them, spending time on each one. He doesn't look surprised, but why would he? Gerard probably draws him all the time. That's what Frank gathered from the pictures, at least. The easy pencil strokes, how clear it was that it was Mikey on the page.

"You two are really close," Frank observes.

"Yeah," Mikey smiles, still looking at the drawings. "Always have been." He pauses for a moment, then looks up at Frank. "Do you have any siblings?"

Frank shakes his head. "Nah, only child."

Mikey tilts his head. "I'd say that that must be weird, but it's not like you've known anything else."

"Yeah," Frank says, smiling a little. He's never really thought about it that much, but looking at Gerard and Mikey, he thinks it must be really fucking nice to have someone like that, someone you're that close with.

He moves to the end of Mikey's bed and makes a note in the chart. "So, you like comic books?" he asks.

"Huh," Mikey says. "Oh. Oh, yeah. Me and Gerard have always been really into them."

"Cool," Frank says, and checks the IV.

"What about you?" Mikey asks.

Frank looks at him. "Yeah," he says. "I like to read. I—have you read _Good Omens_?" It's his go-to recommendation. "It's not a comic book, but."

Mikey pauses, then shakes his head. "I've been meaning to."

"Oh, man, you have to," Frank says. "I could lend it to you, if you want. It's a great book."

"Really?" Mikey asks, his eyes going big. "That'd be awesome."

"Great," Frank says, smiling. "I'll bring it around some day."

Mikey smiles back, mouth wide, and Frank feels abruptly pleased with himself.

Frank plans to leave then, but Mikey asks him about his other favorite books and comics, and somehow Frank finds himself sitting in the chair near Mikey's bed, ten to twenty minutes later, discussing why Doom Patrol is so much better than X-Men. At least they're not that busy today and the only time he's wasting is the time that would go to his own lunch break.

He can see Mikey growing more tired, even as he's telling Frank how he and Gerard got into comic books, with hand gestures and everything. He breaks to yawn, and Frank stands up at that, says, "You should get some rest."

"I'm fine," Mikey says, waving his hand, then winces and lays a hand on his side.

"Time for painkillers," Frank says and moves to the counter on the other side of the bed. "You're going to be on pills now instead of the morphine shot."

Mikey sighs and Frank helps him lie down, pats his pillow to make it more comfortable.

"Are you fluffing my pillow?" Mikey asks. Frank would think he's mocking, but he sounds honestly confused.

"Yes," Frank says and adjusts the pillow again.

"Oh," Mikey says, and blinks up at him. "Okay."

Frank snorts at him. The painkillers must be taking effect, making Mikey frown. Frank reaches out to gently pat his shoulder.

"Get some sleep, okay."

"Right," Mikey says, his eyelids already drooping.

Frank smiles and leaves as quietly as he can.

~

Gerard's back when Frank stops by to check in on Mikey a couple of hours later. He's sitting in the bedside chair, staring at Mikey who's still asleep. Frank blinks a little, then raises his eyebrows, because he can't at first really make out what exactly Gerard is wearing. It looks like a hoodie, but the sleeves seem to have been cut off, so it's like a hoodie and poncho combo. It's huge on him; it makes him look so odd as he's sitting there, hunched over and staring at his brother like nothing else matters. 

Frank smiles and walks up to the bed. Gerard turns his head toward him and frowns, looking suspicious. "Mikey said you went to find him a book," he says, pointedly raising his eyebrows.

For a second Frank's confused—did Mikey misunderstand him earlier? But then he realizes that Mikey probably came up with an explanation for Frank's absence and he picked something where he didn't have to completely lie to his brother.

"Uh, yeah," Frank says, shrugging his shoulders. "I must have left it at home, though. I'll bring it around some other day."

"Okay," Gerard nods. He doesn't really look pissed or anything, so Frank considers telling him that he can't be here every second when Gerard's not. But what Gerard does looks is tired, so small in his hoodie, so he decides to keep that discussion for when Gerard seems less fragile.

"Did you eat something?" Frank asks and moves to check on Mikey's vitals.

"I had a sandwich," Gerard says. "Coffee."

"Okay," Frank says. It's not really enough, but it'll do. He'll try to get someone to find Gerard something here, hopefully Gerard will be more willing to eat when it doesn't mean he has to be away from Mikey.

When he looks over, Gerard's just intently staring at Mikey. He looks a bit like he did that first night, gaze so focused that it's borderline creepy.

"So what do you do?" Frank asks, hoping engaging him in conversation might help. "For a living."

Gerard blinks and looks up at him. "I write comic books."

Frank gapes at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Gerard says, sounding cautious.

"Dude," Frank says. "That's so fucking cool. What have you written?"

Gerard shrugs one shoulder. "Umbrella Academy."

"Shit, that was _you_?" Frank asks, grinning. "Holy shit, dude, I loved that."

"Yeah?" Gerard asks, one side of his mouth quirking up.

"Fuck yeah," Frank says. "Are you writing any more of that?"

Gerard nods. "Yeah, but I'm currently working on something else. I do art on the side, too. I mean, like, painting and stuff."

"Seriously, dude," Frank says. "That's so cool."

Gerard smiles at him then. "Yeah," he says. "It fucking is."

They grin at each other for a bit before Frank turns his attention back to Mikey. He's fast asleep and his vitals look good. He checks the IV level and replaces the saline bag.

When he turns back, Gerard's attention is on Mikey again, but he looks up when Frank moves to the foot of Mikey's bed.

"Are you allowed tattoos?" he asks abruptly.

Frank looks down at where his fingers are clutching his clipboard. "Well, I got these before," he says. "They don't really have much to say, unless the patient minds. They usually don't mind, though."

"Oh," Gerard says. "That's cool. I just—you don't see a lot of nurses with tattoos."

Frank smiles. "Not with knuckle tattoos, maybe."

Gerard smiles and bites his lip. "Do you have more?"

"Yeah," Frank says. "Most are on my arms."

"Most?" Gerard echoes.

"Uh, neck, back, stomach, sides," Frank says. "I've thought about having more done on my hands, but, well. I don't know. I think I'll do it, just should maybe clear it with the higher-ups first."

Gerard looks him straight in the eye, his gaze only slightly unnerving. "That's really cool, dude."

"Thanks," Frank says, grinning. "Do you have any?"

"No," Gerard shakes his head. "Afraid of needles. Well, not so much now, but now I don't really feel like getting them anymore."

Frank nods. "Listen, I gotta go now. You gonna be okay here?"

Gerard furrows his brow, looks back at Mikey. He's sleeping peacefully, the painkillers are working for him. "I'm fine," Gerard says and leans against the back of the chair.

"Okay," Frank says. "I'll see you later, then."

He's almost out the door when he hears Gerard say, quietly, "Bye, Frank."

~

"Are you taking a break soon?" Jamia asks as they're filing released patient charts.

"Yeah," Frank says. "I think I'm gonna go by Mikey's room, maybe eat there."

She raises an eyebrow at him. Frank frowns a little. "What?"

"Nothing," she says, eyebrow still raised. "Just, you've been going by his room pretty often."

Frank crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm doing my job."

She raises both her eyebrows then, widens her eyes. Her surprised expression quickly turns amused. "No need to get so defensive, Frankie." She pointedly looks at his crossed arms. Her lips are quirking up in a smile.

He scowls and turns away from her. "Whatever," he says. "Sure, they're cool guys. I like hanging with them when I have a break."

"I'm just saying," Jamia says, "you don't usually go and spend your lunchtime at a patient's room. In fact, you've _never_ done that."

"Fuck, it's not like I do it all the time now," Frank says. "I just..." He has been stopping by Mikey's room pretty often for the last couple of days, even when he doesn't need to check up on him. It's just, Gerard seems to have relaxed a bit now that Mikey's awake more and he's been assured Mikey's healing well. 

At first he just went to check how they were both doing, but even though Gerard spends pretty much every single hour in the hospital—no one really has the heart to kick him out and he's not in the way, plus he agrees to go home to get cleaned up when Mikey prompts him—he's eating more and sleeping and he talks a _lot_.

Frank likes having conversations with him, and he likes it even more when Mikey's awake as well and they play off of one another, finishing each other's sentences. It's fun. Sometimes he finds Mikey on his own—never for long, though—and talks to him about music and movies. Mikey's still tired, and the painkillers make him a little out of it, but he talks almost as much as Gerard. 

Frank felt bad the first time he made Mikey laugh, because it must have hurt like hell, but Mikey's laugh is pretty much the greatest thing he's heard in a while and it never fails to make Gerard grin, his tiny teeth looking ridiculously endearing, even when he's worriedly petting Mikey's hair and telling him he shouldn't strain himself.

"Frank," Jamia says, startling him out of his thoughts.

"I just like hanging out with them, J," he says, looking her in the eye. She narrows her eyes at him and he throws up his hands. "I just _do_. Stop bugging me."

"Okay," she says and bumps his hip as she moves past him. "Just don't come crying to me in the middle of the night when you realize you've fallen for one of them. But since you will, I'm just saying you'd better bring tequila."

Frank rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. Damn Jamia for being so annoying while also being his favorite person. He shakes his head, grabs his clipboard and heads to Mikey's room—he has to check up on him anyway.

He can already hear conversation from the hall, but the louder voice doesn't really sound like Gerard's. He pushes the door open and is surprised to find a tall, dark-haired guy standing near Mikey's bed instead. Neither of them are paying any attention to him, so he clears his throat and says, "Hey, Mikey."

The tall dude looks up and grins at him. "Oh hey, doctor!"

Frank raises his eyebrows, amused, and turns to Mikey. Mikey rolls his eyes at the dude and says, "That's Frank, my nurse. Frank, this is Gabe."

Frank nods at Gabe and walks up to the side of Mikey's bed.

"Well, doc," Gabe says, still smiling. "How's he doing?"

He sounds nonchalant, but Frank's had a lot of practice in reading people.

"He's doing well," Frank says.

"Gabe was with me in the car," Mikey says, and Frank gives Gabe a quick once-over. He's leaning harder on one leg, but otherwise seems unhurt. Frank remembers Gerard telling him that the others in the car were treated for minor injuries.

"Well, Mikey's doing really well," Frank says again, as reassuring as he can manage, and Gabe shoots him a quick grin. "If you need to leave—"

"Nah, I just got here," Gabe grins. "Oh, by the way, Mikeyway." Gabe reaches out and touches the covers over Mikey's hip, oddly gentle. "Pete says hi."

Mikey smiles. "Tell him to call me sometime, okay."

"Will do," Gabe says, and Frank turns his eyes away, focuses on pouring Mikey’s pills into the dosing cup.

"So where's Gerard?" he can't help but ask.

"He had to go in to work for something," Mikey says.

"So he called and threatened me to come by," Gabe says.

Frank turns back toward the bed and catches Mikey rolling his eyes. "He didn't threaten you."

"No, he did," Gabe says. "He totally did. He didn't have to—" Gabe reaches out and runs a finger down Mikey's cheek; Mikey swats at his hand. "But he did."

Frank narrows his eyes, but Mikey's laughing, so he quickly schools his expression and says, "Gonna change the dressing, Mikey."

Mikey nods, but he's obviously still considering what Gabe said. "So that's why he called when I was asleep," he says, thoughtful.

Gabe laughs, and Mikey snorts, shakes his head. He winces a little when Frank's hands brush his side, but he nods again and Frank takes it as cue to continue.

Frank works quickly—the wound looks good, a lot better than it was a few days ago when Mikey spiked a fever and it seemed like an infection might develop. They'd gotten it under control quickly with antibiotics, but Gerard had really freaked out for a few hours.

In light of that, Frank's a little surprised that Gerard would leave, but Mikey _has_ been doing a lot better as of late. Plus, Mikey probably talked him into it.

Frank cleans up and turns back to Mikey. "Okay, come on, Mikey," he says. "Up."

"Wait, what?" Gabe asks. Mikey pushes himself up into a sitting position and Frank gets the blankets out of the way.

"Wait, but. I can help?" Gabe offers. "No offense, dude, but you're pretty fucking short."

Frank rolls his eyes. Sure, he is a lot shorter than Mikey, but luckily Mikey's also pretty skinny, so it's not too hard to support him. Frank hates when he has to call in someone to help him with bigger dudes; it makes him feel useless. It's not about him, though, so he sucks it up.

He helps Mikey get off the bed, and watches Mikey's face for pain cues, because Mikey is close-lipped when it comes to pain.

Mikey grasps Frank's shoulder and leans his weight on him, and together they walk slowly to the bathroom. Gabe hovers by their side, looking like he wants to interfere but isn't sure whether he should.

He seems to gather quickly that Frank has things under control, though, so he just leans against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"So how's Gerard holding up?" he asks. "I only caught him for a moment as I was coming in, he looked pretty frazzled."

Frank shrugs and leans against the wall as well. Mikey's doing well enough that they just leave a crack between the door now. "He's okay," he says. "Seems more relaxed than on the first couple of days."

Gabe nods and Frank adds, "He does this, actually." He inclines his head toward the bathroom door. "He wants to help, so."

Gabe frowns at him, but he sounds amused when he says, "And you wouldn't let _me_ help. Why nurse, I am offended."

Frank rolls his eyes again and Gabe laughs. "Nah, I'm just messing," he says. He lowers his voice a little. "I'm glad that he—both of them—are doing well. I mean, I can't even imagine how freaked out Gerard must have been and I was pretty fucking freaked out myself."

"Yeah," Frank says and carefully doesn't think back to the time Gerard was hyperventilating so hard that he had to consider sedating him.

"They really mean everything to one another, man," Gabe says.

The door opens then and Mikey shuffles out. Frank gets an arm around his shoulders and walks with him back to the bed.

Gabe settles in what Frank has come to think of as Gerard's chair and Frank gathers his things.

"Are you on break?" Mikey asks, and Frank remembers that he was going to go and get his lunch and spend his break here.

"I—not yet," he says, looking from Mikey to Gabe. "I'm busy today." He feels a tad self-conscious, suddenly, remembering what Jamia said. He'll let Mikey hang out with his friend and go eat in the break room, catch up with people.

"Oh," Mikey says. "Okay." Frank could swear he looks just a bit disappointed. It makes him feel odd. He reaches forward and touches Mikey's shoulder, just briefly.

Mikey smiles and when Frank pauses at the door and looks back, he's already in an animated conversation with Gabe, eyes lit up and happy.

~

Frank's relieved to hear from the floor gossip when he gets to work the next morning that Gerard came back in the middle of the night. It's not that Frank didn't like Gabe, he was cool and seemed to care a lot about Mikey and—most importantly, Frank reminds himself—he backed off and let him do his job. Frank's still happy that Gerard's back.

He checks up on other, more urgent patients in the morning, takes care to complete all of his other rounds, before he goes to Mikey.

The door to Mikey's room is not completely shut, and Frank's about to push it wide open when he stops in his tracks. Gerard's on the bed with Mikey, as he often is, and Mikey's leaning on him, head resting on Gerard's chest, his eyes closed. He still looks tired and pale, but the cuts on his faces have mostly healed and he's doing a lot better. Gerard's running his fingers through Mikey's hair, slow and gentle.

They haven't noticed Frank standing in the doorway, and Frank doesn't want to interrupt, the scene too intimate. But it's more than that, it's the way his stomach suddenly feels heavy and it's a bit harder to breathe. He thinks maybe his hands are sweating. He doesn't know what's come over him.

He shakes his head and pushes the door open, clearing his throat at the same time. Gerard looks over at him, and smiles, warm and welcoming. Frank notices his fingers don't stop moving—smoothing down the hair near Mikey's temple. Mikey blinks his eyes open and turns his head slightly towards Frank. He looks sleepy and calm and he gives Frank a small smile.

They're beautiful, both of them, and Frank feels completely unprepared for how strongly the realization hits him. His stomach flips and his first thought is, "Shit, Jamia was right."

He can't think about it now, though, he _can't_ , so he swallows hard and moves further into the room.

"Hey," Frank says. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Mikey says. "Tired, still, but I think I'm better."

"Good," Frank smiles and walks up to the bed, focusing on what he needs to get done. "I'm just here to check up on a few things."

"Do you need me to move?" Gerard asks. He's still idly stroking Mikey's hair. Frank's not sure if he even realizes it—at least not until he catches Frank staring and abruptly stops. Fuck.

Frank clears his throat and says, "Nah, you're good."

Gerard sits up regardless, laying Mikey's head carefully on the pillow before he shuffles toward the edge of the bed to give Frank more room to work. Frank works quickly, checking Mikey's vitals and noting everything on his clipboard.

"How much longer does he have to be here, do you think?" Gerard asks.

Frank pauses with his hands near Mikey's side, his fingers barely brushing the skin near the bandage.

He hasn't really thought about it, but Mikey's probably going to be released soon. His wound has healed nicely and his vitals are good. They'll most likely keep him for a couple of more days to make sure there’s no recurrence of the fever or possible infection.

Frank's glad that Mikey's doing so well, he really fucking is, it's just—it's a weird day. He glances up and Gerard is looking at him, expectant and hopeful.

Frank smiles. "I think it'll be just a few more days."

Gerard grins at him, wide and happy, then turns to Mikey and throws his arm over Mikey's chest in an awkward hug.

Frank blows out a breath and focuses on redressing Mikey's wound.

He doesn't stay to chat afterward, even though his lunch-hour is coming up, but makes up a random excuse instead and flees. He stops by the bathroom and stares at his reflection. He looks wide-eyed and slightly flushed. Fuck, what the fuck is he doing?

He shakes his head and takes a couple of deep breaths. He's being ridiculous. He splashes some cold water on his face and goes back to work and resolves to not think about this again.

~

Frank's just gotten through his third beer of the night when he remembers why he really wanted to go out tonight. He groans and rests his head on his arms.

Jamia nudges him with her foot. She suggested hitting their favorite bar to him this morning and he lunged at the opportunity to drink, talk to some friends and forget all about Gerard and his stupid little teeth and fucking adorable grin and Mikey with those fucking _eyes_ —fuck.

It had been working, too; he'd seen Dewees and Kitty and gotten caught up with Ray, but now he is sitting with Jamia at the bar after a round of shots and thinking about how Gerard had laughed while Mikey was telling Frank about how he used to bootleg Disney movies.

"Spill," Jamia says and nudges him again.

"You were right," Frank mumbles into the table.

"Of course I was," Jamia says. Frank turns his head and squints up at her. She raises her eyebrow in his direction. "What about?"

Frank closes his eyes and breathes out roughly before pushing himself upright again. "The Way brothers."

"Ah," Jamia says and nods thoughtfully. She takes a sip of her beer, then swivels to face him.

"So, you have a thing for one of them," she says. "Which one? Because, Frankie, man, if it's the patient—"

Frank quickly shakes his head. "No, it—wait, so what if it is?"

Jamia shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know, man, it's just a bit—weird. So is it him, then?"

"I don't—" Frank taps his fingers against his chin, looks to the side. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't—" Jamia cuts off and Frank looks back at her. She narrows her eyes at him. "Which one is it, Frankie?"

Frank squeezes his eyes shut, then sighs and opens them again. "I guess—both?" 

Jamia takes a long pull from her beer, then sets it down on the table. She tilts her head at him; Frank bites his lip and tries to stop twisting and untwisting his fingers. Jamia raises an eyebrow, then, and tilts her head the other way.

"Fucker." Frank throws a napkin at her—it falls down on the table halfway. She's totally laughing at him. There it is, the quirk of her lips, as her eyes lose the calculating look and turn amused instead.

Frank sighs and buries his head in his hands. "Fuck, Jamia, I—I'm, like, honestly asking for help here. I don't know what to _do_."

He looks up, chin resting on his hands, and sees Jamia looking at him, her gaze more serious.

"Okay, okay," she says. "Fuck, okay." She pushes her beer away from her and Frank picks it up and drains it. She doesn't even call him on it, like she usually would.

He sets the bottle down with a clink and looks at her expectantly.

Jamia purses her lips. "Well, I think it would make things easier if you figured out whether you _really_ like them both, but—easier said than done. But in general, I kind of think it's a good thing?" She throws him a look. "You haven't dated anyone in a while."

Frank shrugs. He hasn't really thought about it, not after his last girlfriend. He's busy all the time, and drained when he gets home.

"Yeah, but it's the job," he says. He points out, "You haven't dated anyone either."

Jamia looks down, doesn't say anything.

"What?" Frank ask, shocked. "Who?"

Jamia looks up and purses her lips. "Lindsey."

"Dr. Ballato?" Frank hisses. "How? Why didn't you tell me?" He's completely dumbfounded. How the fuck did he not _know_?

Jamia narrows her eyes at him, and he sits back. "J," he presses.

"It's not a thing," she says. "Yet. She asked me out, we're still working out the time."

Frank settles, because at least it's not like she's been having this secret relationship and hasn't told him, but seriously, what the fuck.

"When did she ask you?" he asks. "Is that even allowed? When were you gonna tell me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Last week, yes as long as we're not on the same rotations, and I'm telling you now."

"But—" he starts, but Jamia cuts him off.

"My point is," she says, "that yes, we're really fucking busy and it's hard to find the time, but that doesn't mean that it's impossible. I mean, we're out here now, aren't we? Lots of people have busy jobs."

He grumbles and looks down. "You sound like my mom."

She kicks him in the shin. "Well," she says as he rubs his leg and makes faces at her, "your mom knows what she's talking about."

"Fine," he says, exasperated. "Fine, okay, I can date, whatever. But that doesn't exactly help me with—" He waves his arms around. "With this. I like both of them, J. Like—"

"Like a lot?" Jamia asks, tilting her head at him.

"Like enough," Frank says and buries his head in his hands again.

She doesn't say anything for a while, and he looks up, drops his hands on the table.

"Like, say I wanted to ask Gerard out," he says and twists his fingers together, rests his chin on his hands. "What if it worked out and we started dating or whatever." His belly feels warm at the idea. But.

"But what about Mikey," Jamia says as if she's reading his mind.

Frank sighs, shakes his head. "I don't fucking know," he says.

"Do you really think that you couldn't get over your feelings for him if you started dating Gerard?"

Frank shakes his head again and shrugs. Even if he could, he's not sure if he wants to. He doesn't want to fucking have to choose one of them or something. That just seems really shitty to him.

Jamia nudges his fingers with hers. "I really don't know what to tell you," she says. "Just—be careful, okay."

"I will," he says. He blows out a breath; fuck, he wants another drink. 

"I'm just gonna try to get over them," he says. "Mikey will get released soon anyway and then I might never see them again." The thought hurts, which is another thing he didn't fucking expect, but fuck it, he's just gonna have to deal. He's not gonna be the asshole who starts dating someone while pining for someone else, or just moves from one brother to the other.

Jamia squeezes his hand. "Shots?"

"Fuck yeah," Frank says, and they order another round.

~

Frank's absentmindedly looking at his bookshelf as he's pulling on his sweater as he's getting ready for work in the morning. His eye catches on the "favorites" section. Fuck, _Good Omens_. He promised Mikey. He kept forgetting, and he's not sure if Mikey even remembers the promise anymore, but Frank intends to follow through on it. Mikey's getting released today so it's fucking good timing, too.

He finds the book and shoves it into his bag, grabs his keys and rushes out the door. He's busy for the whole morning, but he knows Mikey and Gerard aren't leaving until noon. (He might have asked the floor charge nurse to let him know if Mikey got discharged earlier.) He takes his break a little earlier than usual, swings by his locker to get the book and heads towards Mikey's room.

He's looking down at the book in his hands as he pushes the door open—making sure he didn't leave anything potentially embarrassing between the pages—so when he looks up and stumbles to a halt he's already in the room and staring at Mikey and Gerard. Mikey and Gerard who just hastily jumped back from one another. Because they were kissing.

Frank gapes a little, then quickly shuts his mouth and looks down. He couldn't have—he doesn't know what he saw. Except he did, he saw Mikey and Gerard fucking _kissing_ , Gerard's hands in Mikey's hair, Mikey's around Gerard's waist. Like they're a fucking couple or something.

For a moment Frank thinks that they lied, that they're not brothers, but husbands, but...no. They couldn't have faked the records, and they _look_ like brothers, and the way they talk about each other—

The way Gerard curls up on Mikey's bed and holds him close and the way they look at each other, and Frank doesn't have any siblings so he just chalked it up to that, but now he's no longer sure. He's not fucking sure of anything, and his heart's beating fast and he has to look up now and say something. Because regardless of what their relationship is, he barged in on them and he probably looks like a tool right now, just fucking standing there and staring at the ground.

He knows these dudes, maybe not—obviously not—that well, but he _likes_ them ("Which one is it?" he hears Jamia ask in the back of his mind), so he swallows and looks up.

They haven't moved; they're standing there, staring at Frank. Gerard's hand is squeezing Mikey's shoulder, and he looks nervous yet defiant. Mikey looks tired, but his eyes are clear, focused on Frank.

Frank takes a deep breath. "So," he says, trying to sound normal. It's none of his business, what they do behind closed doors. "You ready to go home?"

Mikey tilts his head a little, then nods. "Yeah," he says. "I'm sure gonna miss the food, though."

Frank chuckles. It's fine, it's not like this is the strangest thing he's seen in this hospital. He was just taken by surprise, but he can totally handle this. His stomach feels weird and his heart is still beating rapidly, but that's just—it's nothing. "You're weird, Mikeyway," he says and Mikey smiles and shrugs.

He chances a glance at Gerard next. He's staring at Frank, eyebrows drawn, expression wary. It's the way he looks when he's worried someone is going to hurt Mikey.

Frank tries to convey it with his eyebrows, that he would never, that if this is a secret then he can keep it. He's probably not really great at eyebrow communication, though. He doesn't want to bring it up himself if they're not saying anything, so he coughs and looks away from both of them, gaze settling on Mikey's bed.

"Make sure you don't forget anything," he says. "Or we'll keep it."

"You wouldn't," Gerard says, sounding appalled, and Frank cracks a smile.

"Nope," he says, looking back at them. Gerard has taken his hand off Mikey's shoulder and is looking around the room with an assessing eye. "It's a hassle to get things back to the owners, though, and sometimes we have no clue who they belong to. It usually depends on how valuable an item is, most things we don't have the chance to give back."

"I think we have everything," Mikey says. "Gee?"

"Yeah," Gerard says, sounding distracted. "I'm gonna check the bathroom again."

He disappears into the bathroom and Mikey sighs and sits down on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Frank asks. Mikey's wearing loose jeans, a Joy Division shirt and a hoodie. Frank knows his side and ribs are probably still a little sensitive. He wonders if Gerard helped Mikey into his clothes and has to swallow hard. It's none of his business, he repeats to himself.

Maybe the kiss was just a one-time thing, just because they were both so relieved Mikey was getting home or...something. But it didn't look like it and—no. Fuck, no, they're both adults and Frank is a professional and this doesn't concern him.

"I'm good," Mikey says, interrupting Frank's thoughts. "Tired, little sore, but I feel good. Glad to be getting home, you know."

"Yeah," Frank says and smiles. "Make sure to keep an eye on the wound, though. And take it easy for a few days, no, I don't know, marathon running and stuff."

Mikey rolls his eyes again. "You're worse than Gerard."

Frank snorts. "I really doubt that," he says, grinning wide when Mikey giggles.

"I think we got everything," Gerard says, coming out of the bathroom. He walks over to Mikey and briefly squeezes his shoulder. "I couldn't find anything behind the sink, even. Well, nothing that belongs to us."

He makes a face and Frank raises his eyebrows. "You looked behind the—oh man, just go. I'll try to make sure we get in touch if we find anything."

"Okay," Gerard says. He still looks a bit doubtful, but Frank pulls a face on him and Gerard laughs like it's surprised out of him, like every time. "Okay, Mikey," he says. "You ready?"

Mikey nods and stands up, but he doesn't move far from the bed. He looks at Frank.

"What's in your hand?" he asks.

"Oh," Frank says. He'd completely forgotten about the book. He steps forward and offers it to Mikey. "I finally remembered to bring it."

Mikey's eyes light up and he reaches for it, but then he bites his lip, looks up at Frank. "How will I get it back to you?"

"It's a gift," Frank says. He's read it a million times and he can find a new one if he needs to. He wants Mikey to have this one.

"Oh," Mikey says and takes the book. "Frank, I..."

Frank shrugs. "It's just—I don't know, I just wanted to get you something. For being such an awesome patient," he jokes.

Mikey looks up and before Frank knows it, Mikey pulls Frank into a hug. He's taller than Frank, his limbs awkward, but Frank loops his arms around Mikey's waist, careful to avoid his bandage, and rests his head against Mikey's shoulder, just for a moment.

Mikey pulls back soon enough, and smiles bright. "Thank you," he says clutching the book.

"You're welcome," Frank nods. He has to work to swallow, to make his voice sound normal. There's a knock on the door and someone from housekeeping peeks in.

"Sorry," he says, "but we're gonna need this room soon." He gives Frank a curious look before leaving and Frank shrugs in response. Shit, he needs to go, too, or he won't have any time to eat.

"Right," Gerard says. "Sorry. Mikes?" He stepped back when Mikey had hugged Frank, giving them some space. Now he grabs Mikey's stuff and together they walk to the door.

Gerard stops on the door and looks back. Frank's about to say goodbye, but before he gets the chance Gerard gently drops the bags and rushes forward to pull Frank into a brief, tight hug.

"Thanks for everything, Frank," he says, squeezing firmly, then pulls back.

"I—yeah," Frank says. He's used to people thanking him, used to them _hugging_ him, but fuck, this is Gerard and Mikey, and even though he told Jamia he would try to stop thinking about them, stop being into them, he has to admit so far he has failed spectacularly on that front.

Gerard's moved back to Mikey's side, and Frank swallows hard, says, "Take care. I'm gonna be honest, we really don't wanna see you here again." He grins, and they smile back and say goodbye.

Frank leans against the bed after they leave and runs his hands over his face. He feels tired and confused, but he has to get back to his job and he can't be distracted. He straightens up, goes to get himself something to eat, and resolutely does not think about either Gerard or Mikey or the way both their hands hovered, reaching out for each other when they jumped back from the kiss.

~

"Wait, no, I'll get it," Gerard says and jumps up from the couch.

Mikey's staring at him with an unamused expression when he gets back from the kitchen with coffee and a bag of cookies.

"What?" Gerard asks. "You need to rest." He holds out the mug and Mikey takes it with a sigh.

"I've been doing nothing but resting," he says. Gerard can't argue with that, since they got home yesterday Mikey has slept more than he has been awake. "I'm tired of resting," Mikey adds.

"That's, like, a paradox," Gerard says and settles down on the couch next to Mikey.

"It's not," Mikey says and sips on his coffee.

"Yeah," Gerard says. "I guess not." He wrinkles his nose. "It's something, though."

"It's fucking annoying," Mikey says and puts the cup down on the coffee table. "That's what it is."

Gerard makes a soothing sound and wraps an arm around Mikey's shoulders. "It'll get better soon," he says.

"It better," Mikey says and rests his head against Gerard's shoulder.

"It will," Gerard says. "Your body's just relaxing because you're finally home, hence the sleeping." Mikey looks up at him, eyebrow raised. "What?" Gerard asks. "I totally know what I'm talking about."

Mikey smiles and turns his attention back to the TV. They found a marathon of the Star Trek movies. It's pretty mindless, which is exactly what Gerard wants right now. Something boring and comfortable sounds pretty much perfect.

The ride home from the hospital had been rough, Mikey clinging to his hand in the cab, startling at every pothole, going pale at every intersection. He said he still didn't remember much from the actual accident, but Gerard's not really surprised at his reaction.

That will get better in time, too, he knows. They both have therapy session scheduled next week, not at the same time, but still. They'll be fine.

"Gee?" Mikey says, bringing Gerard out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" he asks. Mikey shifts against him, and Gerard lets his hand fall from Mikey's shoulders so he can sit up a bit more. Mikey turns so he's facing Gerard on the couch, twists his hands.

"What about—Frank," Mikey asks.

Gerard takes a deep breath. "What about—"

"Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

Gerard clenches his fists. "What's he gonna say?" he asks. "That he—fuck it, even if he will, it won't matter. It's not like they can do anything."

Mikey looks to the side, purses his lips.

"But—" Gerard says. "I don't think he will." The way Frank had reacted had surprised Gerard. He'd panicked at first, cursing himself for being so careless. He just couldn't hold himself back; Mikey had smiled and he was okay and finally getting home and Gerard had been so fucking _relieved_. He couldn't help himself.

It was obvious that Frank was taken aback, but it seemed like he'd tried to act like it was no big deal. Like he was fine with it. Maybe he tried to pretend he hadn't seen it, Gerard doesn't know. But Frank smiled and hugged them back and Gerard's really fucking hoping he won't tell.

When Gerard look at Mikey, he's staring at him with narrowed eyes. "You sound sure," he says. Before Gerard gets the chance to say anything, he adds, "Don't think I didn't know you were freaking out in the bathroom."

Gerard huffs out a breath and reaches out, covers Mikey's hand with his. "Yeah, well," he says. "I did look behind the sink, though."

Mikey cracks a smile. "I know," he says. "I'm just saying." He leans back against the couch and reaches out to tug at Gerard's shirt. Gerard takes the hint and shuffles closer to him, settles an arm on his shoulders again. "You seem sure, now. That he won't say anything."

Gerard shrugs. "He didn't look like he would. You know?"

"Yeah," Mikey nods. "Plus, he's hospital personnel, I wonder if they, like, have a confidentially thing or something."

"I'm not sure that extends to this," Gerard says. "But. I think he won't tell, because he's Frank."

Mikey bites his lip. "He was really cool," he says. "Like, he was cool to talk to, you know."

"Yeah," Gerard agrees. "He was really fucking nice, too. Like, fuck, I must have been so annoying, freaking out about every little thing, but he just. He was great." 

Frank had been fucking awesome, actually. Gerard had been so tired and freaked out at the time, he's not even sure how he managed to get to work that one day. (He must have been a mess, but he figures Becky and Grant had looked after him.) So most of the hospital stuff is a blur—except the parts Gerard has to work to block out—but what he remembers clearly is coming into Mikey's room one day and seeing him laugh at something Frank was telling him.

He pulls Mikey close, maybe clings to him a little. Neither of them say anything for a while; Gerard finally manages to focus on the TV again. His eyes keep crossing and he has to blink to clear his vision a couple of times. He didn't really get much sleep since he was looking after Mikey.

"I was thinking," Mikey says, "about maybe looking for a job in the city."

Gerard turns his attention to him, blinks slowly. "Yeah?" he asks. Mikey's scheduled to go back to work in a week. Gerard managed to set up conference calls so he can work from Jersey for a few weeks, and be here when Mikey starts again, thank fuck.

"Not, like, right now or anything," Mikey says. "We're busy at the moment and I think it's gonna get worse before it gets better, and I don't want to leave them short-handed, but. At some point."

Gerard nods and bites his lip. They haven't really, properly discussed this since Mikey decided to keep the apartment in Jersey. Gerard's thought about it often—about one of them moving permanently to either the city or Jersey, or the two of them moving somewhere else entirely, but it's been good so far, it's worked out, and Mikey's happy with his job. "You—I know you love your job, Mikes, I don't—" 

Mikey shakes his head. "No, I just. I want to be there. With you. We could—we could sell this place and I could—we could get a dog," he trails off. "Right?"

"Yeah," Gerard says, pressing a kiss against Mikey's hair. Mikey's wanted a dog for a long time, but they've never really had the time they need to properly look after one, what with commuting across the river. "Yeah, we could."

Mikey nods and curls further into Gerard, his head against Gerard's chest. "I want that," he says.

Gerard wraps both arms around Mikey and rests his cheek on top of Mikey's head. "Me too."

Mikey's breathing evens out soon, but Gerard stays awake, watching over Mikey and thinking back to years ago. He'd hardly dared hope back then.

~

_Gerard's lying on his bed, caught somewhere between sleep and that painful sort of wakefulness that comes at five in the morning after too much coffee and too many cigarettes, when Mikey stomps down the stairs and into the basement._

_"Gee," he says, sounding desperate, and Gerard blinks himself fully awake._

_"Gerard," Mikey says and throws himself down onto the bed, jostling Gerard, and buries his face against Gerard's chest, the edges of his glasses digging in._

_"Mikey, what—" Gerard automatically brings up his hand to gently card through the strands of Mikey's hair, stiff with product._

_Mikey had gone out earlier that night, off to another party at someone's place. Gerard hadn't expected him to come back till well into the next morning. That's just how things have been lately._

_Mikey went out while Gerard stayed in, to drink, draw and smoke. Most of the time Mikey didn't come back till the next morning or sometimes even afternoon. He always stopped by the basement to let Gerard know he was home, but he never came in._

_"Mikey," Gerard tries again. "Hey, did something happen?" He tightens his grip on Mikey's hair without thinking. Mikey's breath is warm against his chest, even through the layer of fabric. "Mikey," Gerard whispers and squeezes his eyes closed._

_"Gerard," Mikey says and pulls back abruptly, sits up. He moves over Gerard; his thighs are bracketing Gerard's, his hands fisted in Gerard's shirt. "I can't do this any more."_

_Mikey's eyes are blazing behind his glasses, gaze intent on Gerard. He's drunk, but not the pliant and warm kind of drunk like he usually is, not soft around the edges. He's holding his body tight; Gerard can see him shaking._

_"Do what, Mikes?" Gerard asks, voice rough. He can't help it, he puts his hands on Mikey's sides, tries to soothe him. All it does at first is make Mikey tense up even more, but then he's shifting forward, his ass on Gerard's upper thighs, his crotch over Gerard's._

_"Gee, please," he breathes._

_Gerard shakes his head, tries to push him off. "Mikey—"_

_Mikey makes a noise like a sob, and leans down, presses his face into Gerard's neck. "Gee," he says, mouth brushing Gerard's neck. "You can't—I can't keep doing this, please don't make me."_

_Gerard swallows hard. "What are you—"_

_Mikey sits up again, fast, his hands going to Gerard's arms. He grips them tight, fingers digging in. Gerard fights back a gasp. Mikey's hair's a mess, falling onto his face, but Gerard can still see how determined and desperate he looks, even in the dim light._

_"I can't keep doing this," Mikey repeats. "Every night I go out and I find someone to hook up with—"_

_Gerard flinches, breathes in deeply. He suspected, of course, was almost sure that if Mikey would come into the basement after getting home then Gerard would find him smelling of sex, but hearing Mikey actually say it hurts and it fucking_ shouldn't _._

_"And I try to forget about you, but I can't." Mikey's voice breaks on the last word._

_Gerard closes his eyes, just breathes for a second, before scrambling to sit up, to push Mikey back. He can't think with Mikey so close, he can't_ think _._

_He pulls his knees close to his chest, looks back up at Mikey. Mikey's kneeling on the bed, and fuck, Gerard can't bear to look at his face._

_"I want you," Mikey says, voice wavering. "I want_ you _."_

_Gerard drags a hand over his face. He's way too sober for this conversation._

_"Gerard," Mikey says, plaintive. He scoots forward on the bed, presses himself against Gerard's legs. Gerard can't help it, he lets his legs fall open and Mikey shuffles even closer, his hands going to Gerard's sides._

_Gerard shakes his head. "Mikey, you don't know what you're talking about."_

_"Fuck you," Mikey says. "I'm eighteen."_

_"Eighteen's really fucking young," Gerard says._

_"Old enough," Mikey says. "Old enough to know if you're in love."_

_"Fucking hell, Mikey," Gerard says and covers his face with his hands._

_"Gee, don't," Mikey says, his hands going to Gerard's wrists, coaxing Gerard's hands away from his face. "Look at me." Gerard breathes out roughly, then lifts his eyes to Mikey's._

_"Mikey, we can't—" he starts weakly, but Mikey cuts him off._

_"No," Mikey says, gripping Gerard's hands harder. "I know what I want, Gerard. I want you." He makes a noise like he's choking back a sob, then leans forward and presses his mouth to Gerard's._

_Mikey's lips are soft and clumsy against Gerard's mouth, but he's tangling his fingers with Gerard's and pressing closer. He tastes of alcohol and his kiss grows more insistent, and he lets out this little whine, and Gerard can't help but kiss him back._

_Mikey's mouth is so familiar, and his body feels so good against Gerard's, and Gerard knows it's wrong, it's so fucking wrong, and he should pull back right now. But Mikey came to him, and Mikey's making these noises, and holding on to Gerard's hands and—_

_"Stop," Gerard gasps, breaking the kiss. He pushes Mikey away and scrambles back on the bed. They can't do this, they_ can't _._

_"No," Mikey says, voice breaking. "No, Gerard—please."_

_Gerard lies back and runs his hands over his face. "We can't, Mikey."_

_"Why not?" Mikey asks, almost a whine._

_Gerard lets out a sharp breath. "It's wrong."_

_"Why?" Mikey asks. "Tell my_ why _it's wrong."_

_Gerard sighs. He's so tired. "We've been over this, Mikey."_

_"Why is it wrong?" Mikey repeats. "If we both want it then it can't be wrong, right? And you do, I—I know you do." Gerard can hear him hesitate, can tell he's starting to doubt it. Gerard should let him._

_"You're drunk," Gerard says. He should have said that when Mikey first came in. He almost forgot, but when he glances up at Mikey it's obvious—his eyes are blurry and bright, his face flushed._

_Mikey ignores him. "You do want it," he says. "You—Gee." And he leans down again, presses a kiss to Gerard's mouth, his tongue slipping in._

_Gerard wraps his arms around Mikey's waist and kisses back, because he can't not._

_Mikey makes an encouraging noise and deepens the kiss. Gerard chases his mouth when he pulls back, and Mikey leans in again and again, pressing kisses against Gerard's mouth, softly murmuring something. At first Gerard can't make it out, but then he hears it, Mikey repeating, "You do want me, you do." Gerard feels like crying._

_He tightens his hold on Mikey's waist, but suddenly Mikey pulls back and curls up, his breathing heavy._

_"Mikey?" Gerard pushes himself up onto his elbows._

_"'M gonna puke," Mikey says, clutching his stomach._

_Gerard gets him into the bathroom just in time. He sits down next to Mikey, hand on his back, the other gently pushing the hair out of Mikey's face while he throws up into the toilet._

_After Mikey's done, he slumps down onto the floor, groaning. Gerard gets him a cool washcloth to press against his forehead. He gets up to get some blankets when Mikey chokes out, "No, wait—don't."_

_"Hey," Gerard says, kneeling down next to Mikey. "It's okay, I'll be right back. I'm just gonna get you blankets."_

_Mikey shakes his head and slowly pushes himself to sit up, leans against the toilet. The washcloth falls down to the floor. "What about-you didn't say—" He breaks off and his face crumples. "Gee."_

_"Hey," Gerard says and gently gathers Mikey up in a hug, pulls his head down to rest on Gerard's shoulder. He rubs Mikey's back, says, "It's okay. We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay, when you're feeling better."_

_Mikey shakes his head, tries to pull away, but Gerard holds him tight._

_"I promise we'll talk about it tomorrow," he says and pulls back to look Mikey in the eye. "I swear, Mikey."_

_Mikey blinks up at him, his eyes red and bright with tears. God, Gerard loves him so much._

_"Hey," he whispers, looking right into Mikey's eyes. "I'm not saying no, okay."_

_"But you're not saying yes," Mikey whispers back, voice sad._

_Gerard huffs softly and brushes his fingers over Mikey's cheek, pushing his hair back behind his ear, rubbing at the dent the temples of his glasses have left there. "That's not what I'm saying either."_

_"But," Mikey says, and blinks up at him._

_Gerard sighs. "Mikes, I can't promise that this will work out, if we try this. I can't promise that it will be fine." It fucking hurts to say that. He's supposed to be able to do that for his brother._

_Mikey leans his forehead against Gerard's; his breath still stinks of puke. "But you'll try, right?" he asks, a bit slurred, his voice quiet. He's tired; eyes falling shut, like all the fight has gone out of him._

_Gerard smooths his thumbs over the bags under Mikey's eyes. Mikey's breathing deeply now, close to sleep._

_"Hey," Gerard says. "Do you think you're gonna puke again? Should we stay here?"_

_Mikey blinks his eyes open and slowly shakes his head. "I'm fine," he says. "I can—let's go back to bed?"_

_"Okay," Gerard whispers and kisses Mikey's forehead before getting up._

_He helps Mikey to bed and hurries back into the bathroom for the washcloth and some water._

_Mikey's already drifting off, but Gerard gets him to stay awake long enough to coax some water into him. He thinks maybe they should have stayed in the bathroom, just in case, but Mikey's out like a light soon enough. Gerard takes off Mikey's glasses, places the washcloth on his forehead and curls up around Mikey, one leg thrown over Mikey's, a hand gently running over Mikey's belly._

_He closes his eyes and breathes slowly, in and out. He'll try. He'll try, because he wants it so much, he wants it to work. He'll try because he's never been able to deny Mikey anything._

_Before falling asleep he nudges Mikey over to his side, presses close, chest against Mikey's back. Mikey lets out a little whine and Gerard smooths a hand down his chest, over his stomach, soothing._

_He's so fucked. He should walk away right now, should have walked away a while ago. Gerard knows this. But he can't get rid of the voice in the back of his head that's saying, hopefully, that maybe this can work._

~

It's a couple of weeks after Mikey went back to work and Gerard has managed to stop calling or texting him every possible minute he has free. Mikey's fine, he's doing well—he still can't stand pressure on his hurt side and he can't really stretch or bend fully without some pain, but he's okay.

Gerard's on his way home from a meeting with the editors when his phone rings.

"Hey," Mikey says as Gerard picks up and settles the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can dig out his keys. "I'm going out to a gig tonight, are you gonna come over?"

Gerard frowns and unlocks the door, steps into their apartment. "Isn't it kind of last minute?" Mikey hasn't been out to see a gig since the accident and Gerard's not sure how he feels about someone just dumping this on Mikey on the day of. Then again, Mikey's been a bit twitchy lately and he probably wants to go.

"Yeah," Mikey says. "Someone got sick so they're sending me. It's at nine, when do you think you're gonna get here?"

He's not even asking if Gerard's coming—doesn't have to, really. He knows Gerard doesn't have any plans for tonight, and he would already have told Mikey if anything had come up. There's no question about it, of course Gerard's going. With their schedules, he hasn't seen Mikey for two days and it's not even that long, not long at all, but it feels like ages.

Gerard checks the time—it's a little after four. "I can get there in a couple of hours," he says.

"Great," Mikey says. Gerard can hear the smile in his voice. "I have to go, I need to look over a couple of last-minute things. But I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Love you, bye."

"Love you too," Mikey says and hangs up.

Gerard makes coffee and answers some of the most pressing e-mails. He doesn't bother with food, he'll eat at Mikey's. Mikey's gotten faster at getting ready, but he always picks what he wears carefully when he's going out due to work, and since it's the first time in a while he'll probably take more time than usual.

Gerard himself is currently at a stage where he just changes from regular jeans to skinny jeans and calls it a day. It works for him. Mikey says it's the brown hair talking, but he smiles when he says it, so Gerard knows he likes it, likes that Gerard feels comfortable.

He's left his favorite jeans at Mikey's and so he just grabs a jacket and his bag and sets off for the train. 

The train's packed full and he doesn't manage to get a good seat, which sucks, but he's gonna see Mikey soon so he doesn't really feel too bothered by it. Getting from the station to the apartment takes forever, though, the traffic a fucking mess.

Mikey's in the kitchen when Gerard finally gets there. "Fuck, there was some pileup, and getting out of the—" He's cut off by Mikey kissing him, mouth warm and eager against Gerard's.

Gerard drops his bag to the floor and brings his hands up to rest on Mikey's waist. He's about to dig his fingers in when he remembers, shit, the wound. He wraps his arms around Mikey's waist instead, pulls Mikey flush against him.

"Hey," Mikey says against Gerard's lips.

"Fuck." Gerard bites at Mikey's bottom lip, moves his hands down to Mikey's ass. "Fuck, Mikes, missed you so much."

Mikey groans into his mouth and pushes forward, hips moving against Gerard's.

"We—later, fuck, Mikes, we don't have time," Gerard says, his breath coming fast as Mikey goes for his neck.

Mikey shakes his head, his hair brushing against Gerard's cheek. "Gee, fuck, I need—"

He's dropping down to his knees before Gerard realizes, fingers going for Gerard's zipper.

"Hey, no, no, wait," Gerard says. "Up."

Mikey huffs but lets himself be dragged back up to his feet. "I'm fine," he says. "Gee, I just wanna—"

"Later," Gerard says and rests his forehead against Mikey's. "Bed. Because if we start now there's no way we're going anywhere tonight."

Mikey chuckles, but his fingers are digging into Gerard's ribs and he's breathing fast, breath hot against the back of Gerard's ear.

"Fuck," he says. "Okay." He presses a kiss to Gerard's lips and steps back. This isn't the first time they've stopped even though they've both been desperate for it. If Mikey wasn't going out for work related stuff then they'd probably have even more fun with it.

"Go get ready," Gerard says. "Did you eat yet?"

"Yeah." Mikey nods towards the kitchen table. "There's fresh juice in the kitchen, too."

"Awesome," Gerard says, and steals another kiss. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Mikey says and digs his fingers into Gerard's wrist, just for a moment, before heading towards the bathroom.

Gerard eats while Mikey showers; he finds an old copy of _Fables & Reflections_ next to the toaster as he's making himself another batch of coffee and sits down to read it.

"Oh, hey," Gerard calls when the shower finally cuts off. "I need to borrow a shirt."

The bathroom door creaks open. "Which one?" Mikey asks.

Gerard shrugs. "I don't know," he says, leafing through the comic. "Pick something."

"Okay," Mikey says and pulls the door closed again. Gerard sips on his coffee and thinks that he should talk to Grant about maybe going in a slightly different direction with the new project.

He soon hears the bathroom door open and close and he expects Mikey to go into the bedroom, but instead he feels arms wrapping around him. 

"Hey," Mikey says and presses a kiss to Gerard's temple.

Gerard runs his fingers over Mikey's bare arms, leans back into the embrace. 

"Hey," he says back. "Go get dressed before you catch a cold."

"'Kay," Mikey says. He tilts Gerard's head back and kisses him. It's a bit awkward and off-balance, but Mikey's smiling when he pulls back and Gerard knows it's gonna be a good night.

~

The band Mikey's come to check out is the last opener, so there's already a band on stage by the time they get there.

Mikey squeezes Gerard's hand and throws him a quick smile before heading to the back of the club to meet with the band. Gerard settles against the wall and eyes the band currently playing. They're decent enough, but the crowd's not really into it yet.

He wonders how many people they know will be here tonight, he's betting on several. Sometimes that bothers him about Jersey, the fact that he and Mikey have to take care to act as if they're not together, but it's easier tonight since Mikey's working. Maybe they'll even run into Gabe or Ray, it's been way too long since they've seen Ray. He was going to come by the hospital, but it didn't happen, and Gerard misses him.

He's looking around the club, waiting for Mikey to come back, when his eyes fall on a familiar figure not far from him. He squints and tilts his head a little, then widens his eyes. No fucking way. 

A warm body presses close to him then—close, but not too close, pulling back almost immediately—and he instinctively turns toward Mikey, tearing his eyes away from the guy. "How did it go?"

"Good," Mikey nods. "They seem pretty cool, I hope they can play."

Gerard nods at him, distracted. "Awesome," he says, then glances back at the dude. "Hey, Mikes, isn't that—" He inclines his head towards the guy standing at the bar, then looks at Mikey.

Mikey squints at the guy's direction and a moment later he widens his eyes and smiles. "Hey, that's Frank, right?"

"Yeah," Gerard says. "It is, right?"

"Come on, let's go say hi," Mikey says, and starts heading toward him. Gerard follows close behind.

Frank's looking at the stage, leaning against the bar and nodding his head along to the beat of the house music.

"Frank," Mikey says, stopping right in front of him.

"Hey," Frank says, slowly, but then his eyes widen and he smiles. "Shit, Mikey! Hey, man! How are you?" He immediately leans up and pulls Mikey into a quick hug. 

"I'm good," Mikey says. Frank grins at him, nods. He looks behind Mikey then, right at Gerard, and his smile gets even wider. "Gerard!"

"Hey, Frank," Gerard grins, and Frank steps forward and gives him a hug as well. His body is warm and solid and Gerard finds himself with the urge to cling to him, just a bit. He steps back and clears his throat, but Frank doesn't seem to notice anything.

"You guys here for Science?" Frank asks, looking between them.

Gerard nods. "Mikey's working," he adds. "I tag along."

"Oh," Frank says. "Oh, right! You here to recruit them?" He grins.

Mikey shrugs, noncommittally. "If they're good enough."

Frank grins and they fall into a conversation about the bands playing tonight. Gerard orders them all drinks, passes them around. His fingers brush Frank's when he's handing Frank his glass.

Frank looks so different here than he did at the hospital. He's wearing low-cut black jeans with a white shirt and a dark jacket. He's already sweating a little, his face shining under the lights, hair curling at the nape of his neck. He looks so fucking hot.

It's not like Gerard hadn't noticed; he had—he remembers random snapshots of Frank's fingers, his tattoos, the way his hair fell in his eyes, his lips, his smile—but he'd been so focused on Mikey.

Gerard holds his glass a little tighter, shifts closer to Mikey, hip bumping against his.

"Oh, shit," Mikey says, turning to Gerard. "I have to go."

Gerard nods at him and Mikey hands him his drink. Mikey turns to leave, but he throws a quick look at Frank, who grins.

"I don't need to be anywhere else," Franks says, and Mikey smiles and hurries off.

Frank watches him go, and Gerard has to bite his lip. Frank blinks rapidly, then turns back to Gerard and grins.

"So how are you doing?"

"Me?" Gerard asks. He shrugs. "I'm fine."

Frank raises his eyebrows.

"I—no, yeah, he's doing so much better," Gerard says. "I can't say that I don't worry, but."

"But you always do," Frank fills in, and Gerard has to nod. He does, he can't help it.

"This is the first time he's out at a club after the accident," he says.

"Oh," Frank says, and shifts closer to Gerard. "Well, he seems fine?"

"Yeah, no," Gerard says. "I mean, he does. I just..." He trails off and shrugs.

Frank nods and asks him about his work, to distract him Gerard's sure. They chat for a while, but Mikey's still not back and Gerard's starting to get antsy.

The crowd has grown; even where they're standing has filled up with bodies, all moving to the music. Gerard glances around, worried.

Mikey's tall and he's good at moving in a crowd, but Gerard's still afraid that someone will elbow him in the side or something.

"He'll be fine, Gerard," Frank says, and Gerard huffs, looks at him.

Frank's smiling at him. "I'm not sure if that sounds as reassuring when you're not wearing your scrubs," Gerard says and Frank laughs.

"He's probably on his way over here," Frank says. He turns and goes up to his tiptoes to see over the crowd. The movement pulls his shirt up a bit and under the flashing lights Gerard sees a hint of dark ink on his waist, above his hip.

He remembers, suddenly, Frank counting all the places he had tattoos. On his stomach, he'd said, and Gerard has to bite his lip. He wants to _see_.

Frank drops back down to his feet. "Fuck, it's getting hot here," he says and runs a hand through his hair.

It is getting hot, and Gerard even considers taking off his jacket, but he's pretty attached to it. It's not _that_ hot, not yet. Frank doesn't seem to agree, though, because he bounces a little on his feet, then quickly peels off his jacket and pulls his sleeves up.

"Oh, dude," Gerard says and steps closer. Frank's arms are covered with tattoos. "Awesome tattoos."

"Thanks," Frank smiles and turns so Gerard can get a closer look. Gerard wants to put down the glasses so he can touch Frank's arm, turn it as he sees fit, but it's probably best that he can't. He has a gorgeous Lady of Sorrows on his left forearm and Gerard's totally enthralled by it.

"There are more," Frank says and pulls his sleeves up even more, revealing tattoos on his upper arms. "Uh, this is my grandfather, and there—oh, hey, Mikey."

Gerard doesn't get the chance to turn before Mikey's pressing against his back, giving him the briefest of hugs. Gerard cranes his neck to look back at him, raises his eyebrows.

Mikey nods, smiling slightly, and Gerard turns back to Frank. Mikey's fine.

Mikey leans his chin on Gerard's shoulder. "Oh man, sweet tats," he says.

"Thanks," Frank grins at him. Gerard coughs and steps back a little, allowing Mikey to get a better look. He's suddenly uncomfortable; he's still not sure what Frank thinks of them, really. Frank doesn't seem to notice, though, he points at several tattoos above his elbow. The noise level in the room is rising and Gerard has to strain to hear what Frank's telling Mikey.

"Is that a chestpiece?" Gerard blurts out, nodding towards where something dark is visible through Frank's shirt. He wants to ask about the ones on Frank's waist, too, but he's not sure if he should.

"Yeah," Frank says. "I have that, and then some on my upper and lower back, too."

"Oh fuck, I'd love to see them," Gerard says before he can stop himself.

"Yeah?" Frank asks, smiling. Gerard sees his gaze flick to Mikey, who's still examining the tattoos on Frank's arm.

Gerard swallows hard and nods, and Frank gives him a quick grin. Gerard turns toward the stage, breathes out through his mouth. He's still holding both his and Mikey's glass, and he's glad for that, because if he were to reach out now, he's not sure who he'd be reaching for. He's not sure which option would be better.

"Hey, Gee," Mikey says, and Gerard turns back immediately. Mikey takes his drink from Gerard, and nods towards Frank. "Frank has the Black Flag logo on his arm."

Gerard widens his eyes. "Really? Where?"

Frank quirks his lips at him, and points him at it. Gerard has to lean in close to hear what Frank's saying, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. He lifts his gaze from Frank's arm to Frank's neck. 

"Hey," he says and reaches out, unthinking. "That's really cool." There's a pair of scissors with some words tattooed on Frank's neck. Gerard's fingers brush against it, and he could swear Frank shivers at the touch.

Gerard pulls back and drops his hand. He throws a quick glance at Mikey, who's smiling at him, looking amused.

Frank clears his throat. "Thanks," he says, and looks at Mikey as well. "Um, there's a scorpion on the other side."

Before he gets the chance to show that off, someone drops into their space.

"Hey, Mikey." It's Ray, and he immediately pulls Mikey into a hug. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Mikey says, stepping back from the hug, smiling.

Ray keeps his hand on Mikey's shoulder. "Good," he says, smiling as well. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the hospital."

"It's fine." Mikey shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

Ray nods, then turns to Gerard. "Hey." He pulls Gerard into a hug as well, and Gerard goes willingly. Ray's an excellent hugger. He covers the back of Gerard's head with his hand, ruffles his hair.

"Frankie," Ray says, and gives him a hug, too. He turns to Gerard and Mikey. "You guys know Frank?" he asks, grinning.

Mikey smiles. "He was my nurse."

"Oh," Ray says. "Hey, awesome. So how was he? He's always so wild on the guitar, I always wonder how he is with patients."

Mikey turns to him, voicing Gerard's thoughts. "You play? You didn't tell us."

Frank shrugs. "Not much," he says. "Just sometimes. I don't have a lot of time."

"Well, he's great at it," Ray says. "He really gives it his all."

Gerard thinks that if it weren't for the dimness of the club he could see Frank blush.

Mikey still looks confused and a little disappointed, but he recovers quickly and throws Ray a smile. "He was awesome," he says, solemnly. "Best nurse ever."

Ray laughs and throws an arm around Frank's shoulders. Frank rolls his eyes, but he's smiling as well.

The band Mikey came to check out steps on stage then, and they all turn to watch. They're damn good. Gerard's pretty sure that Mikey's gonna try signing them soon. Mikey's watching the stage with narrowed eyes, but he keeps throwing Gerard quick looks, smiling, and Gerard grins back.

They leave soon after that, and they're barely through the apartment door when Mikey presses himself against Gerard and kisses him, fast and hungry.

"Fuck, Gerard, I need—"

Gerard digs his fingers into Mikey's hips and pulls him even closer. They both groan, and Gerard grasps Mikey's hair, mumbles, "Bed, come on, come—"

Mikey bites down hard on Gerard's bottom lip, then pulls away and grabs Gerard's wrist, pulling him to the bedroom.

Mikey blows him, his mouth hot and gorgeous and everything Gerard loves. He pulls off before Gerard can come, ignoring Gerard's groan as he gives him a biting kiss, says, "Fuck me."

Gerard groans again and flips them over. His hands hover over Mikey's sides, but he digs his fingers into Mikey's hips instead, pulls him close.

Gerard fucks him fast, so close to the edge himself, and bites at Mikey's neck, his shoulders, leaving several marks. Fuck, fuck, he's missed this so much.

Afterward they curl up together under the covers, Mikey's back to Gerard's front, totally spent. Gerard's almost falling asleep already, but he needs to ask Mikey something first.

"Hey," he says quietly. He's pretty sure of what he saw on Mikey's face tonight, but he still wants to make sure. "What do you—what did you think—"

"About Frank?" Mikey asks. "I gave him our phone numbers."

Gerard furrows his brow. "When?"

"When you were in the bathroom," Mikey says. "He gave us his."

"Oh," Gerard says and pulls Mikey even closer, kisses the nape of his neck. "Do you—do you think we should try?"

He knows he doesn't have to specify.

Mikey's silent for a while. Gerard would think he has fallen asleep, but he's stroking Gerard's wrist with his thumb. He turns around in Gerard's arms and Gerard automatically lifts his hand to Mikey's cheek.

"You really liked him, too," Mikey says. Gerard nods and Mikey bites his lip. "He wasn't freaked out. He didn't seem freaked out, at least. He seemed—"

"Like he was into you," Gerard says.

Mikey smiles. "He seemed into you, too."

"Yeah," Gerard says, because Frank did. Gerard caught him looking at him almost as often as he caught him looking at Mikey.

"Then yeah," Mikey says. "We should try."

"Okay," Gerard says, and kisses him, slow and deep.

Mikey makes a soft, encouraging noise and presses closer. He falls asleep between one kiss and the next. Gerard settles his hand on Mikey's back and drifts off as well.

~

For some reason, Frank doesn't really expect Mikey and Gerard to get in touch, but they do. The first text comes the next day, Mikey sending him a link to a picture of a tiny pug wearing a Batman costume.

Frank's on his break, nursing a cup of coffee and chatting with a few people. He grins at his phone and sends back, _That dog looks bad-ass. Could totally beat Scarecrow in a fight_

"What are you grinning at?" Jamia asks and hooks her chin over his shoulder.

"Oh, uh, Mikey sent me a text."

"Mikey?" Jamia asks. "Like, the Mikey who—"

"Yes," Frank says before she can finish the sentence. "I met them at a club the other night, him and Gerard."

"And numbers were exchanged," Jamia says. "Nice."

She raises her eyebrows at him and he shrugs. He hasn't told her what he saw on they day Mikey left the hospital. He was dying to hear her thoughts on it, but it wasn't his place.

He still likes both of them, a lot. His stomach goes tight when he thinks about how fucking hot they looked in that club.

He'd been trying to figure out what their relationship really was, comparing their interactions to what they were like at the hospital, but he'd frequently gotten distracted by the way they acted with _him_. He could have sworn it had looked, at times, like they were both interested.

Now, in the brightly-lit break room, he tries to think about it clearly. About how they were pretty much joined at the hip, and if he didn't know they were brothers he _would_ have probably thought they were boyfriends. 

He's not—he's really not opposed to the idea, he realizes suddenly. He swallows hard and leans back against the chair.

"Frank?" Jamia asks. "You okay?"

Frank nods. "Yeah," he says, looking up at her. "I'm fine."

She narrows her eyes, and he quickly asks, lowering his voice a bit, "So, how are things with you and Dr. Ballato?"

Jamia huffs at him, and he nods when she tells him about their second date. He tries to pay attention, he really does, but he can't focus. He'll ask her again later. He can't stop thinking about the kiss, about that split-second of Mikey and Gerard and Gerard's hands on Mikey's face. He tried to push it out of his mind, but he can't.

It doesn't mean that they're together, he repeats to himself. They had been joined at the hip at the hospital as well, and yeah, okay, Frank doesn't have siblings, but he hadn't heard any of the other nurses say anything. They were just—Mikey and Gerard.

But what is or isn't doesn't change the fact that as an idea, Frank is all for it.

~

Frank's started looking forward to his evenings off even more than usual because Mikey and Gerard always text the most then. He never used to be glued to his phone, but he's kind of developed a habit of it now.

He's in for the night and has just sent off a text to Gerard in response to a joke about Thor and Loki in the Avengers movie when his mom calls.

"Hey, honey," his mom says. "How are you doing?"

Frank drops his take-out on the coffee table and settles down in front of the TV. "I'm good, mom." 

"Dating anyone?"

"No, mom," Frank says, holding back a sigh.

"I'm just curious," his mom says. "Do you have enough time to see your friends?"

"Yeah," he says. "I saw Ray just a few weeks ago." His mom loves Ray, so he always mentions him first whenever they do catch up.

"That's great," she says. "Are you coming by any time soon?"

He pulls the coffee table closer to himself, adjusts the phone. "Yeah," he says. He hasn't really been around lately, and he feels kinda bad about it. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Oh, you don't have to if you're busy," his mom says and Frank sighs, runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm not busy," he says. "I'll come by tomorrow, okay."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it," she says, and he feels warm.

His mom catches him up on their relatives while he eats, then wishes him a good night. Dewees calls right after and asks him to come out to a club, but Frank is full and comfortable on the couch, and he doesn't really feel like moving so he gives him a rain check.

He watches a bit of Top Chef; as he's eating the last bits of his dinner he gets a new text. He swallows the bite, then reaches for his phone. Gerard has sent him back, _You know, they're not really blood-brothers. Apparently that makes it better, tvtropes says._

Frank swallows hard. He has tried to stop thinking about Mikey and Gerard like that, as if they're—dating or whatever. ( _Kissing, fucking_ , his brain adds.)

They're both really great guys and he's really fucking into them, but thinking about that confuses him. And turns him on, but it doesn't matter, because he hasn't acted on that and he—he fucking won't.

This, though, this is probably just Gerard musing, but Frank feels like he should give him a proper answer. Give him—something.

 _I don't know_ , he types carefully. _If it's consensual I really don't fucking care._

He hits send and squeezes his eyes closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's had a couple of beers and now he can't stop picturing it, Gerard kissing Mikey, Gerard with his hands on Mikey's hips. Mikey wrapping his long legs around Gerard's waist, grasping Gerard's hair.

Frank drops the phone on the table, shoves his pants down. He wraps his fingers around his cock, and fuck, he's so hard already. He bites down on his arm to keep from making too much noise and gets off fast, fucking desperate for it. He thinks of Mikey running his fingers over his tattoos while Gerard just _watched_ them, his gaze hot, and he comes so fucking hard he strains off the couch, his foot hitting the coffee table.

He lies there, sprawled out on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, trying to catch his breath. Fuck. He gets up and goes to clean himself off, takes the dishes back to the kitchen and then forces himself to watch mindless hours of TV.

He doesn't check his phone again until right before bed. Gerard has texted him back, but it's just about the new Superman movie he and Mikey are looking forward to. Frank exhales roughly and puts the phone away, curls up under the covers and tries not to think. About anything.

~

Frank's just walked out of the hospital and is checking his messages when someone calls out his name. He looks back instinctively—getting called back in for an emergency is far too common.

"Frank, hey," someone says again, and this time the voice sounds more familiar. He blinks and looks around and almost swallows his tongue when he sees Mikey walking up to him.

"Are you busy?" Mikey asks, his smile a bit unsure. "Your shift's over, right?"

"I—yeah," Frank says and pockets his phone. "No, I'm not busy. What's—what are you doing here?"

Mikey shrugs. His hand goes up to tug at his hair before he starts scratching at his cheek. "I was just—do you want to get coffee?"

Frank blinks. Is Mikey asking him out? He thinks rapidly—yes, he would fucking love to get coffee with Mikey, and yes, he kind of really hopes it's a date. But there's a part of him thinking about Gerard, and fuck, why the fuck does he have to go and make things so difficult for himself.

He's also wondering, however idly, about what this means regarding Gerard and Mikey's relationship. He was almost certain that Gerard was flirting with him at the club, and it's not like Mikey seemed uninterested either—plus, all those texts.

So what does it mean that it's Mikey here, right now. Did they fucking flip a coin or something? Frank frowns. No, they wouldn't, he doesn't think they'd do something like that.

He realizes he's been quiet for a while; Mikey's looking down and shifting from one foot to the other.

"I'd love to," Frank blurts out. "Get coffee. I'm really craving coffee right now."

"Oh," Mikey says, and looks up, smiling. "Cool. Oh, but, not today."

Frank tilts his head, confused. "...Okay."

"I mean, I don't have time today, and Gerard's in New York."

"Gerard?" Frank echoes.

"Yeah," Mikey says, and nods. "He'll be here tomorrow. Does tomorrow work for you?"

"I—" Frank tries to quickly reassess the situation. Gerard's coming too, so it's. It's coffee between friends. He's disappointed, but a part of him is also relieved. He's not sure which part will win out yet, but he does know he wants to say yes and get to see both of them tomorrow. "Yeah, tomorrow's fine," he says. "I get off at six. Is half past okay?"

Mikey looks down and his eyebrows draw together as he nods. "Yeah," he says, looking up. "Yeah, that should be fine."

"Okay," Frank says and smiles.

"So tomorrow," Mikey says. "Me, you, Gerard. And coffee."

"Yeah," nods Frank, and Mikey grins wide, the corners of his eyes scrunching up.

"Sweet," Mikey says. "I gotta run now, I'm meeting with that one band I told you about."

"Oh, okay," Frank says. "You know, you could have just texted me."

Mikey shrugs. "I wanted to see you," he says. "Plus I was kinda hoping you wouldn't say no to my face."

Frank smiles. "Why would I say no? I mean, it's coffee."

Mikey grins at him and leans forward for a quick hug.

"See you tomorrow," he says and then he's off, walking quickly. Frank watches him go and allows himself a minute to revel in the fact that Mikey came by just to personally ask Frank for coffee with him and Gerard.

A strong gust of wind blows through the parking lot and Frank draws his shoulders up and heads home. He really can't wait to get off from work tomorrow.

~

Frank's a little late in getting out of the hospital, so by the time he reaches the coffee shop Gerard and Mikey are already there.

They've taken a booth in the far corner so Frank orders quickly and settles down opposite them. "Sorry, I got held up."

"Don't worry," Gerard says. "We're pretty good at waiting in coffee shops. Because of the coffee."

Frank the urge to hug Gerard, he hasn't seen him since the club. He settles for just grinning at him.

"Hey, did you see that new trailer for the Superman movie?" Mikey asks, and just like that they're off, talking about the upcoming movies, the latest developments in comic series, and new music.

It's like the discussions they would have back at the hospital, except with the added bonus of Mikey not being hurt and tired and Gerard not being worried and worn out.

Frank realizes they've been sitting there for two hours, just ordering more coffee and talking. He's starting to feel a bit jittery, but he feels happy as well, content.

"No, that wasn't that dude," Mikey says, waving his arm around. "That was the guy who dressed like a hairdresser." Frank is truly impressed with the amount of wrestling knowledge Mikey seems to have.

"I thought that guy was that other dude's brother," Gerard says and Mikey shakes his head. "No, he—" Frank glances at his phone and Mikey breaks off. "Shit, I'm boring you."

"No!" Frank hastens to assure him. "No, dude, not at all. I'm just getting a bit tired, I'm sorry. Early morning."

"Oh, shit, it's almost nine," Gerard says. Mikey widens his eyes comically and Frank giggles. "Sorry, you must be exhausted."

"Nah," Frank says, and waves his empty cup at them. "I probably should start heading home, though. But thanks for inviting me. It was awesome to see you guys again." He smiles, but Gerard furrows his brow and Mikey's face falls. Frank frowns, confused.

Gerard looks at Mikey, asks, "Did you—I thought you told him it was a date."

Frank feels his eyes go wide. A what?

Mikey shrugs. "I thought it was implied."

Gerard sighs and rubs at his forehead. Mikey hunches down, and Frank hates how _small_ he looks right now, wants to fix it, but his brain is still trying to make sense of what Gerard said.

"A date?" he asks. "A—what?"

Gerard looks up at him, then at Mikey. He throws an arm over Mikey's shoulders, squeezes, and Mikey relaxes against him. Frank swallows hard.

"We really like you," Gerard says. He keeps his hand on Mikey shoulder, but his eyes are on Frank. "And you saw—you saw us, and you didn't freak out and you said—"

"That I'm fine with it," Frank says. That night, when they were texting about the Avengers.

Gerard nods, looking relieved. "We thought so. And at the club, it seemed like—"

"Like you were interested," Mikey says. His body is canted toward Gerard's, and he's fiddling with his hands, scratching at his wrist. "In both of us. Not, like. Maybe not together, but—"

"So we wanted to ask you to join us," Gerard finishes.

Frank nods slowly. "Do you mean, like, just for fun?" he asks. "Like a threesome?"

"No," Gerard says and exhales roughly. "Like a relationship."

"Okay," Frank says. "I—" He looks down at his hands and frowns. He keeps thinking that he was right, that they are together. And they want him to—

He glances up, and they both look hesitant, their eyebrows furrowed identically.

"You guys, I don't—"

"You can think about it," Mikey says quickly, but Frank shakes his head and Mikey sits back a little, looks at Gerard. Gerard bites his lip and looks back at Frank.

Frank takes a deep breath. His brain is going a mile a minute and he feels trapped here in this small booth with all these other people around. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" He looks around the coffee shop. "Somewhere—not here."

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Of course."

They end up on a bench in a decent-looking park nearby, Frank sitting in one corner, Gerard and Mikey in the other. It's getting dark, but they're close enough to the road so it doesn't really matter.

"Frank, you—" Gerard starts, but Frank holds up a hand and he quiets.

Frank feels completely out of his depth here. He can't focus. He doesn't know what to _say_. He leans his chin on his hand and tries to think.

They want him to join him. Mikey and Gerard want him to _join_ them, and not just a threesome, but, like. A relationship. Because they care about him, and they're both together, and they want _him_ and—

He wants to say yes. He's—fuck, yeah, he's gotten off to the thought of the two of them together, but he does genuinely _like_ them. He likes them a hell of a lot, and what they're saying is that he doesn't have to choose between them.

But. But he's busy and that's exactly the reason his last relationship didn't really go anywhere, he didn't have the time, or the willingness to find the time. He doesn't know if he'll have time for them. He's afraid he won't have time for them, he's afraid that he'll say yes and realize that he only actually wants to be with one of them. He's afraid he'll screw it up and hurt them and lose their friendship. He's _scared_.

Frank's never been someone to give in to his fears, but he really doesn't think he can do this.

He turns to Mikey and Gerard, and he can tell they already know what his answer's gonna be.

"I'm sorry," he says, but Gerard shakes his head and Mikey says, "Don't."

"We're sorry," Gerard says. "For just springing this on you, Frankie, we're so fucking—"

"It's okay," Frank says. "I just—I care about you, okay. I really fucking do, I just don't think I can handle a relationship like this. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mikey echoes back. "You don't have to apologize." He sounds so fucking—resigned. Sad. Frank hates hearing it, but there's nothing he can do. He feels so overwhelmed by it.

"I should—it's late. I'm gonna go," he says and stands up quickly.

"Frankie," Gerard says and Frank can't hear that either, he can't.

"It's fine," he says. "I'll—we'll talk later, okay. Get home safe."

They both nod, and Frank takes a deep breath, and leaves. He spends most of the time it gets him to make it home thinking about Mikey's sad eyes and how he didn't even get the chance to hug Gerard.

~

Gerard didn't realize how much he was hoping for this to work out before Frank gently, but surely, told them no. The ride back to the apartment is quiet, Mikey slumped in the seat next to him.

Gerard throws himself down onto the couch with a sigh as soon as they make it into the apartment. Mikey heads into the kitchen to make coffee as usual. This time it feels a bit strained, though it's possible Gerard is just imagining it. He sighs again and runs a hand over his face.

He _really_ hoped this would work; it seemed it was going great, but then it turned out that Mikey hadn't even let Frank know it was a date. Gerard can't really blame him for it—he saw the way Mikey looked at Frank. Mikey always forgot about details when it came to someone he really liked.

Mikey brings him his coffee and sits down next to him, knees pulled up, cup cradled in both hands. Gerard takes a sip and lets his head rest against Mikey's shoulder.

Mikey sighs and Gerard reaches forward to put his cup down, snuggles closer to Mikey.

"I really thought," Mikey starts, then stops. He sounds sad, defeated, and like he's trying to hide it. Gerard hates it.

"Me too," Gerard says quietly.

"Maybe we shouldn't have just dumped it on him," Mikey says. "Maybe—maybe he'll still change his mind."

"Maybe," Gerard says. Mikey's right, they probably should have given Frank more time to think about it, approached it differently. But he's not sure Frank will change his mind. Maybe, though—

Gerard pulls away from Mikey and turns to look at him. Maybe.

"Maybe we can still try a different approach," he says slowly, carefully. Maybe he can do this much.

"Different how?" Mikey asks.

Gerard takes a breath, tries to school his expression to stay neutral. "You really like him," he says, not bothering to make it into a question.

"Yeah," Mikey says, furrowing his brow. He leans forward and puts down his cup. "You like him too, Gee."

Gerard shrugs. "Yeah, I do," he says. "But—"

"No," Mikey cuts him off.

"No what?" Gerard asks.

"You know what," Mikey says. "Don't you dare say it."

Gerard rolls his eyes and looks away. "I just—"

"No," Mikey says, taking hold of his wrist, forcing Gerard to look at him. "We've talked about this before, Gee. Don't you remember?"

Gerard shrugs and looks down. Of course he remembers, but— "I just want to give you what you want, Mikes."

Mikey sighs and when Gerard looks up his expression softens a little. His thumb is absently stroking Gerard's wrist. But there's still a line between his brows and his eyes are serious, just a bit pissed off.

"We've talked about this, Gee," he says. "We agreed."

Gerard bites his lip. "That doesn't mean we can't change our minds."

Mikey makes a frustrated noise and jumps up from the couch. He crosses his arms and turns to look at Gerard. "I'm not gonna change my mind."

"But—" Gerard tries again, but Mikey cuts him off.

"Gerard, stop." Gerard can see how tight he's holding his body, how agitated he is.

"Mikey, I—"

"I'm not gonna change my mind about this, Gerard," Mikey says, voice steady and sure. He's looking right at Gerard, eyes hard.

Gerard swallows. "Okay," he whispers. "I just—" He looks down at his hands, twists them together, untwists them again. Mikey steps forward and places his hands on Gerard's, squeezes them.

"It's you and me, Gee," he says, and climbs onto the couch, on his knees, Gerard's hands clasped in his. "If Frank doesn't want to be with both of us then it's not gonna work."

Gerard nods, still not looking up, and Mikey lets go of his hands, pulls him into a hug.

"Okay," Gerard says, and rests his head on Mikey's shoulder.

~

_It's late when Gerard gets home after going out with some friends from work. He opens the door to his apartment and startles a little when he sees the light is on and someone's sitting on the couch. It's Mikey, there's no one else it could be, but Gerard wasn't expecting him tonight, thought he was with—oh._

_Mikey has his arms wrapped around himself, and he looks up when Gerard closes the door and drops his bag._

_"Pete and I broke up."_

_He sounds hollow; sad and tired. Gerard hates to hear it—hates Pete, right now. He makes his way to the couch and sits down next to Mikey, reaching out to pull him into a hug. Mikey folds easily; pulls his knees up and settles his head against Gerard's chest._

_"I'm so fucking sorry," Gerard whispers. Mikey shakes his head, his hair rubbing noisily against Gerard's shirt._

_"It wasn't—we both thought it was for the best."_

_"Yeah?" Gerard asks, running his fingers through Mikey's hair. "What happened?"_

_Mikey sighs and pushes into Gerard's touch, like a cat. "He said he was shit at sharing." Gerard tightens his grip on Mikey's hair, then relaxes his fingers again. "I knew that. I knew that going in, but I still thought that maybe it would be fine."_

_"But," Gerard says, confused. "But didn't you tell him that we—we're not—"_

_Mikey pulls back to look up at him; Gerard lets his hand fall to Mikey's waist. "That's the other thing. I told him that I couldn't do that any more."_

_Gerard furrows his brow. "Mikey—"_

_Mikey's eyes are red, and he sounds so matter-of-fact about it all. He sounds defeated. Gerard moves his hand from Mikey's waist to the nape of his neck and rubs his thumb against the knot of Mikey's spine._

_"I told him—" Mikey cuts off and takes a shaky breath. "I told him I couldn't do it, that I wanted to be with you, too. That maybe we could make that work."_

_"Oh," Gerard says, and swallows heavily. "And he—"_

_"He said it wasn't going to work," Mikey says. He shrugs one shoulder and looks down. "So we just—broke up."_

_Gerard frowns. "But you love him," he says. Mikey never said it, but Gerard knew, just from the expression on Mikey's face whenever he talked about Pete._

_"I do," Mikey says, looking up. "But I love you, too." He quirks his lips, just a little, but his eyes remain serious, his eyebrows raised a bit, as if he's asking something._

_Gerard brackets Mikey's face with his hands, presses a kiss to his forehead. "Love you, too," he whispers and pulls him into a hug. Mikey leans his head on Gerard's shoulder and Gerard shifts them until Mikey's pretty much sitting in Gerard's lap._

_"I really wanted this to work for you," Gerard says after they've sat like that for a while, just breathing._

_"Yeah," Mikey says quietly. He presses a kiss to Gerard's cheek, then turns to straddle Gerard's legs. He puts his hands on Gerard's shoulders, his movements suddenly urgent. His eyes lock with Gerard's. "If we're ever gonna be with someone else then—then we both are. Right?"_

_Gerard nods. Not being with Mikey was killing him, but he did it because he wanted Mikey to be happy, figured he'd be happy with Pete. He knew that if he ever fell for anyone else, he'd never stop wanting Mikey. And now he knows Mikey feels the same._

_Gerard knows that Mikey just broke up with Pete and he should give him some space, but he can't help it. He lifts his hand to Mikey's face, trails his fingers over Mikey's temple, his cheekbone, his jawline. He leaves his hand to rest on the side of Mikey's face, thumb lightly stroking the skin below his ear, and brings his other hand up to cup Mikey's cheek._

_Mikey's staring at him, his breathing heavy, eyes wide. Gerard touches his thumb to Mikey's bottom lip and Mikey's eyes flutter closed. He blinks them open again, fast, his gaze locking with Gerard's, and he whispers, "Gee." Gerard leans forward and kisses him._

_The kiss is deep, and Gerard can't help but draw it out, wants to make it last. He moves his hands to Mikey's hair, grasps the strands tightly, but not too harsh. Just holds on. Mikey's fingers are digging into the soft flesh of Gerard's sides as he eagerly kisses back._

_Mikey finally breaks the kiss and rests his head against Gerard's shoulder. His breathing's a little shallow and Gerard can tell it's just not because of the kissing. He wraps his arms firmly around Mikey's waist and holds him tight._

_"I love you," Gerard says and rests his chin on top Mikey's head._

_"I know," Mikey says._

_"Don't Han Solo me," Gerard says, and Mikey laughs, as expected. His laughter quickly turn into sobs, though, and he buries his face in Gerard's chest._

_Gerard rubs his back and presses kisses to his ear, and vows that he'll do anything he can to never see Mikey hurt again._

~

Mikey doesn't call Gerard for a few days after the Frank thing. He texts several times, but he usually always calls once a day, in the evening when he's off work.

"I think he's mad at me," Gerard tells Grant. They're sitting at the coffee shop near their office. Usually Gerard just stops by and buys something to go, so he can get back to work, but sometimes Grant drags him out for a sort-of proper lunch.

Sometimes Gerard thinks it's pretty much the most ironic thing ever. Grant can never remember to feed himself, yet he'll constantly chastise Gerard about it. Usually he just thinks that makes Grant one of his best friends.

It's not that Gerard doesn't know it, it's just that the coffee and food and the talks they have always back it up.

"Because Frank denied your invitation?" Grant asks, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his coffee.

Gerard shakes his head and fiddles with his coffee cup. "Because I suggested that Mikey should ask him again, just himself."

Grant tilts his head. "You didn't tell me that," he says carefully.

Gerard shrugs and looks down. "It was stupid," he says. "I shouldn't have said it."

"Why did you?" Grant asks and sets his cup down with a clink.

"I just want him to have what—who—he wants," Gerard says.

"Gerard," Grant says, voice gentle. Gerard looks up. "You know who he wants."

Gerard closes his eyes. "I know," he says. "But—" He blows out a breath and open his eyes, looks down again. "He wants Frank, too."

"As do you," Grant says. "I've heard you talk about him, Gerard. But you know that Mikey will always want, even need, you more. You're his brother."

Gerard sighs and looks down. Grant's the only person in the city who knows, truly _knows_ about Mikey and Gerard, because they chose to tell him, and this is exactly one of the reasons why Gerard is so glad they made that decision.

"So yes," Grant says, "perhaps he is angry with you for acting like he hasn't already made his decision."

"I—you're right," Gerard says. "I'm being stupid."

Grant shrugs, looking thoughtful. "And Gerard, about Frank," he says. "Did you think he might not feel comfortable with being with Mikey when he knows that means he's coming between the two of you? After all, you said he cared about you both. It was the complexity of the relationship he decided against."

Gerard sighs and buries his head in his hands. "You're right," he says, voice muffled. "I—fuck, Frank should be angry with me as well, and he doesn't even know it."

Grant touches his wrist. "It was a suggestion made in the heat of the moment, to Mikey. You needn't feel too guilty about what it might have implied had you actually voiced it to the both of them."

Gerard lifts his head and stares at Grant. "I fucked up," he says.

"No," Grant says, and Gerard lets his kind eyes placate him. "You said something without really thinking about it. Mikey will forgive that soon enough."

"But he's not even talking to me," Gerard says, painfully aware of how pathetic he sounds.

"So call him," Grant says and sits back in his chair, reaches for the coffee cup. He makes a face when he realizes it's empty and Gerard laughs.

He'll call Mikey, and everything will be okay.

~

"I'm sorry," Gerard says, as soon as Mikey picks up.

"Gerard?" Mikey asks, sounding confused, but Gerard ploughs right on.

"I'm sorry about what I said, I'm sorry I acted like you hadn't made your choice, I—I'm sorry, Mikey, please don't be mad at me."

Mikey's silent for a moment. Gerard holds his breath and clutches the phone. He's sitting cross-legged on their bed, the blanket draped over his shoulders. The bed feels even more empty than usual.

"Gerard," Mikey says and blows out a breath, the sound loud and staticky. "I'm not mad."

"But you're not talking to me," Gerard says, voice plaintive.

"I was busy," Mikey says. "And. Maybe I was a bit mad, but I'm not anymore, okay."

"Okay," Gerard says. "I'm _sorry_."

"I know, Gee," Mikey says. "It's okay. Just don't do it again."

"I won't," Gerard says. "I shouldn't have said that. I messed up."

Mikey sighs. There's a light crackling down the line. Gerard wonders if Mikey's in bed—probably. He imagines Mikey stretching out, bed creaking. Fuck, Gerard misses him.

"Are you coming over soon?" he asks. "I can come there tomorrow."

"I thought you had that thing," Mikey says. "That—what was it?"

"The workshop," Gerard says. "No, that got pushed to next week."

"Okay," Mikey says. "Yeah, then you should definitely come over."

Gerard smiles and uncrosses his legs, lies down on the bed. The conversation turns to what they've been up to for the past few days after that, giving context for their texts.

Gerard can tell that Mikey's getting tired, his voice going soft and sleepy, and he's about to wish him goodnight, but he has something else he wanted to talk about, to ask.

"Mikey," he says. "Have—has Frank talked to you?"

"No," Mikey says. "I thought about texting him myself, but..." His voice keeps getting more quiet and Gerard rolls to the side—he managed to get under the covers at some point during the call, which is an achievement because the blanket situation is really confusing for some reason—and presses the phone closer to his ear.

"I don't know," Mikey finishes. "I want to talk to him and he said we should keep in touch, but."

"Yeah," Gerard says softly. "Me too. Maybe we should just give him a bit of space. And try to get in contact after a little while."

"Do you think that would be okay?" Mikey asks.

"I think," Gerard says, then bites his lip and considers it. "Yeah. I think that's the best option right now." He misses talking to Frank, too, but he imagines—hopes—that Frank would appreciate some space.

Mikey yawns on the other side of the line, loud and long, and Gerard chuckles. "Go to sleep, baby," he says.

"I was gonna," Mikey says. "But you called."

"Sorry," Gerard says, feeling guilty. "I'm gonna go, and you can—"

"It's fine," Mikey says. "I'm glad you called."

"Okay," Gerard says. "Sleep now."

"'Mkay," Mikey mumbles. "Night."

"Good night," Gerard says and listens as Mikey breathes steadily down the line. "Mikey."

"Yeah?" Mikey asks, and Gerard can tell just from his voice that he was already sleeping.

"Put the phone away," he says, smiling fondly.

"Oh, right," Mikey says and Gerard hears it clutter against the table. He chuckles and listens for just a little while longer before ending the call and falling asleep himself.

~

It's a month after their conversation with Frank when Mikey stops calling regularly again. It's not totally unexpected, because the last time they saw each other a few days ago Mikey did say things would probably get really busy at work. They'd had a bit of a calmer period for a few weeks and Mikey had brought up finding a new job, but his boss had convinced him to stay for another month.

Gerard thought "really busy" meant Mikey wouldn't be able to come to see him as often, and he'd been planning on going over to Mikey's place a couple of times during the week himself. Even if Mikey was really tired at least they could sleep in the same fucking bed.

But then Gerard got dumped new scripts and a deadline and Mikey stopped calling at all.

Gerard's sitting in the kitchen, starting at the small alarm clock on the microwave. It's been three days since Mikey has called. At first Gerard thought he shouldn't bother Mikey in the evenings, because he was probably either working or exhausted, but Mikey's texts have grown more sparse as well, so he's decided to call.

He has an hour before he needs to go back to work, and he's staring at the clock, counting down to Mikey's hopeful lunch time.

Finally he can't take it anymore and just reaches for the phone.

"Gerard," Mikey says when he picks up after a couple of rings, clears his throat. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Gerard assures him. They hardly ever call each other during the day since their schedules don't really work for that. "I'm fine. I just—fuck, I missed you. You haven't called."

"Oh, yeah," Mikey says, his voice sounding a bit weird. "It's been insane here, I've crashed every night when I've gotten home. I'm sorry if I made you worry."

"No, you didn't," Gerard says, then, "Well, I—maybe a little. Sorry, I can't help it. Am I—I'm not interrupting you or anything, right?" He bites his lip, feeling fucking awkward and hating it. He needs to see Mikey, but he can't get away from work, either, and in the evenings he has to work on the project he's doing with Gabriel.

"No, I'm on a break," Mikey says, pauses to cough. "It's barely five minutes, but it's a break."

"Shit," Gerard says. "I didn't realize you'd be _that_ busy."

"Yeah, well," Mikey says, voice grim. "Neither did I. I—shit, Gee, I gotta go."

"Okay, call if you can," Gerard says hurriedly. "Any time. During the day, whatever. I know I have meetings and shit, but fuck that. Okay?"

"Okay," Mikey says. "I gotta go."

"I'll see you soon," Gerard says. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Mikey says quickly and hangs up.

Gerard sighs and leans forward, puts his head in his hands. It's not the first time they've been too busy to talk or see each other, but it sucks every time. At least this time he knows that once it'll be over, Mikey will get a new job and move. They just have to get through this rough patch, and then they'll finally be able to come home to each other every night. 

Gerard pushes away from the desk and stands up, goes to grab his bag to head to work. Things will get better soon.

~

Gerard's in his office the next afternoon when his phone rings.

"Um, Gerard?" asks an unfamiliar voice.

"Yeah," Gerard says, settles the phone between shoulder and ear. "Who's this?"

"Matt, I work with Mikey?"

"Oh," Gerard says. "Oh, yeah, I remember him mention you—wait." Gerard's stomach sinks. Mikey hadn't called him last night, but he'd texted in the morning. He was fine, he had to be.

Gerard shifts in the chair, takes the phone in hand again, grips it tightly. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, dude, he was pretty sick," Matt says. "Worse than yesterday. We had to call the ambulance, they just took him away."

"What?" Gerard squeezes his eyes shut and tries to take deep breaths. In and out. This isn't happening. "An ambulance?"

"Yeah, man, he like, collapsed, he was coughing so bad. Totally passed out," Matt says. "It was pretty bad, but he came to when the paramedics got here. They took him to the hospital on Bergen street."

 _This isn't happening,_ Gerard keeps repeating to himself; this can't be happening again, but it is and he needs to focus and keep breathing. He swallows hard, tasting bile. "Okay," he says. "Okay, I'll be right—okay." 

He opens his eyes, he's gripping the desk so hard his knuckles are white. He can't hear what Matt is saying anymore, it's just a buzz. He tries to concentrate.

"I told him, he shouldn't come in today, he looked pretty rough," Matt says. "But we're fucking swamped, you know how it is."

Gerard grinds his teeth together. Mikey was sick, he's _sick_ , and they had to call an ambulance and Gerard didn't even _know_.

He quickly thinks back to the brief phone calls, and—yeah, Mikey had coughed, once or twice, he remembers now, but it hadn't sounded that bad, not—he—

"Okay," Gerard says again. "Fuck, I. Thanks for calling. I have to—"

"Yeah," Matt says. "No problem. Hope he gets better soon and all that."

"Thanks," Gerard chokes out and hangs up. He has to leave now. He has to—he has to go, he needs to go to the fucking _hospital_. He feels like he's gonna throw up.

He swallows hard, and gets up. His legs feel weak, and he's supposed to meet with Scott in like ten fucking minutes. He rests his hands on the desk, and tries to keep breathing, hunched over. 

_Collapsed_ , Matt said. No, no, not Mikey. Gerard has to go, he has to go _now_ and he can't even fucking move.

"Gerard, hey—Gerard?"

Gerard lifts is head—it's Becky, standing on his door, looking concerned.

"Fuck," Gerard says, voice rough. "Becky, I have to go, I—" He doesn't realize he's strode over to the door until he feels Becky's hands on his shoulders.

"Gerard, slow down," she says. "What happened?"

"Mikey," Gerard says, and forget about throwing up, he feels like breaking down right here and fucking crying. "He—he was sick and he collapsed and they called an ambulance, I have to, I have to go to the hospital."

"Okay," Becky says. "Okay, Gerard, breathe. What did the hospital say?"

Gerard shakes his head and clings to Becky's hands.

"Did the hospital call?" Becky asks.

"No," Gerard says. "It was some guy he works with."

"Okay," Becky says again. "Breathe, honey, okay."

Gerard closes his eyes briefly and breathes slow and deep. In, out.

"That's it," Becky says. "Now get your bag and your phone. Do you know which hospital they took him to?"

Gerard does as he's told, grabs both bag and phone, grips them tight. "Yes," he says. "But. I have a meeting with Scott." 

"I'll let him know what happened," Becky says. "You, call the hospital, okay. They'll tell you how he's doing."

"I don't know the number," Gerard says, realizing. He never had to call them, he doesn't _know_. "I don't—"

"Gerard," Becky says, and Gerard closes his eyes and breathes. "Go. I'll find the number and text you."

"I love you," Gerard says.

"I know, honey," Becky say and squeezes his hands, kisses his cheek.

"Becky," Gerard says, voice breaking. "I can't—"

"You won't, Gerard," she says. "He's gonna be fine."

Gerard nods and pulls away. His legs still feel wobbly and he thinks he's shaking, but it doesn't matter. He has to get to Mikey.

He's almost at the station when Becky texts him the number. He dials while he's waiting on the platform for the next train.

The receptionist who picks up is very calm and helpful. She checks Mikey’s paperwork and verifies that she can talk to Gerard, and then tells him Mikey’s stable and not in immediate danger. Gerard translates it as _fine_ , even though that's not right. Mikey's in the hospital, of course he's not fine. They say he's possibly suffering from pneumonia.

The train arrives right as he's hung up and Gerard climbs on and sinks into the first empty seat.

He spends five minutes trying to get his breathing under control. Mikey's stable, he's not in danger, he's gonna be _fine_ , because he's Mikey and he has to be.

Gerard squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands, but then he's flashing back to the last time he rushed to the hospital like this, and he feels sick.

It's not an accident, he repeats to himself, it's just fucking pneumonia, but he still feels like he can't breathe.

He swallows hard and reaches for his phone again. He thinks about calling Becky, to let her know what's going on, then considers Grant, but they're both probably busy. He's still thinking about it, though, fuck it, if they can then they'll pick up, but then, as he's scrolling, he comes across Frank's name.

Frank might not be at work, which means all Gerard would be doing was disturbing him on his day off. Or he might be in and busy and have his phone turned off. Or he might be having lunch and be checking his messages and pick up.

They never did start talking to him again, not after they decided to give him some space for a while. Gerard misses him, misses the way he made Mikey's hospital room seem not like one, the stories he told, the way he listened. The texts he used to send, before they went and fucked it up by asking him for something he couldn't give.

He misses the way Frank made Mikey smile, not bigger and brighter than the smiles he saved for Gerard, but _different_.

Maybe Frank's forgotten about them, or is trying to, but he did care about them, Gerard knows. He could see it in the way he looked at Mikey.

He leans back against the seat and calls Frank.

~

Frank's searching for information for the new patient in one of his rooms when his eyes fall on a familiar name. His stomach bottoms out, and he has to grip the desk hard to keep his footing.

On the list of people brought in today, it says, _Mikey Way_. Frank closes his eyes briefly, and takes a couple of deep breaths. What the actual fuck, Mikey. He scrambles to get to the Mikey's file and drops a bunch of papers in his haste.

"Fuck!" he curses and kneels down to quickly pick them up.

"Frank?" One of the other nurses crouches down next to him to help. "You okay, dude?"

"Yeah," Frank says quickly. "Just—yeah, I'm totally—fuck." He fumbles with the papers as they almost slip from his fingers again.

"Whoa." Brendon gathers up the papers and takes the ones from Frank as well; stands up and reaches down to pull Frank back to his feet. "You sure you're okay?"

Frank shakes his head and takes the files. "Yeah, sorry, just—I saw a familiar face on the admitting roster."

"Oh shit, man, that sucks," Brendon says, sympathetic. 

"Yeah," Frank says and starts looking through the files again.

He finally pulls out the right file and quickly skims it. He pauses on the word _pneumonia_ and takes a deep breath. Mikey's sick. He's just—fuck. Frank closes his eyes and focuses on breathing. He needs to get himself under control. His heart's beating so fucking fast, he feels ill.

"Frank?" Jamia, touching his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Uh," Frank says, and squeezes his hands into fists. "It's—Mikey, I found his name on the roster, and he—"

"What happened?" Jamia asks.

Frank shakes his head and finally looks at her. "Pneumonia," he says, and glances at the admitting info. "Says here that he collapsed at work. But he's stable. I just—I kinda freaked."

"Hey," Jamia says. "It's okay. Go on, go take a breather, okay."

"I—"

"Go," Jamia says and points him toward the break room.

"But J, I have to—" Frank tries to argue.

"Frank," Jamia says. "Go and calm down, okay. You're no use to anyone like this." It's harsh, but it's the truth, Frank knows it.

"Okay," he says. She squeezes his hand, then pushes him away.

It's empty when he gets there and he's so fucking grateful for that. He already feels silly enough, he's usually way more in control than this. It's just—Mikey, fuck, for a minute there he thought the worst. 

He shakes his head and takes deep breaths. He's fine, he just needs to cool it down. He needs to—

He's already reaching for his phone as it goes off and for a second he's confused, but the screen's flashing with Gerard's name so he quickly presses the button to answer and lifts the phone to his ear.

"Frank, hey," Gerard says. His voice sounds a bit strained, and far away. There's a lot of background noise, like he's out on the street. "So, fuck, okay, I'm calling because—"

"Mikey," Frank interrupts him. "I know, he's here."

"Have you seen him yet?" Gerard asks. "How is he? They wouldn't tell me much over the phone."

Frank shakes his head, momentarily forgetting that Gerard can't see him. "I just saw his name on the roster. I was just gonna head over to check up on him, but Jamia told me to take a minute first. I was about to call. I—what _happened_?" He's used to people getting brought in with respiratory illnesses, people who have either pushed themselves too far—and it's not like Frank doesn't know about that—or just been really unlucky, but. Shit, this is Mikey.

"I don't _know_ ," Gerard says, voice strained. "Fuck, I guess he got sick and wasn't taking care of himself." Gerard breathes out harshly. "He was so busy at work, and I was busy, and then—fuck, I should have noticed."

 _Of course_ , Frank remembers. Mikey lives alone in the apartment he has in town.

"It's not your fault," Frank says immediately.

"I can't believe I didn't fucking notice, he—" Gerard cuts out for a brief moment and Frank clutches the phone tighter. "—and Matt said he almost fucking collapsed, he was coughing so bad. I just—"

"Gee, it's not—where the fuck are you?" Frank asks as he hears a screech from Gerard's side.

"On the train," Gerard says. "Fucking group of teenagers. Ahh, fuck."

Frank can hear him breathing raggedly. "Gerard?"

"'S okay," Gerard says. "I've got my head between my knees and everything. Totally breathing."

That startles a laugh out of Frank and he has to put a hand on his stomach, to remind himself to keep breathing as well. "Good," he says. "That's good, Gee."

"Fuck," Gerard says. "Fuck, I'm gonna kill him myself. How did this even _happen_?" He sounds so small; lost and confused. Frank can't imagine what it must be like to have to rush to the hospital again for someone you love, only a few months after the last time.

"It's okay," Frank says. "He'll be okay. I'll look after him till you get here."

Gerard's voice goes soft. "I know you will, Frankie."

Frank swallows hard, then clears his throat. His chest feels tight all of a sudden. "Right," he says. "Okay, I'm gonna go check up on him now."

"Okay," Gerard says. "Okay, tell him—fuck, tell him I am so fucking pissed off at him right now. And that I love him and I'm on my way."

Frank smiles. "Will do."

~

Walking into Mikey's room is like the worst kind of deja vu.

It's different, of course; Mikey looks nothing like he did after the car accident. His face is a little pale, and there's an IV attached to him, but that's pretty much it. And yet...it's so much worse now than then, because back then he was just any other patient. Now he's _Mikey_ , here in this bland room, in this big hospital bed, looking small and vulnerable. Frank has to squeeze his eyes shut, press his fingers to his temples, and take a couple of deep breaths. 

He checked Mikey's vitals before he came in—he's dehydrated and has a high fever, but they seem to have it under control. He's going to be fine, Frank's sure of it. Mikey's strong. He's also an idiot for letting this go so far, but Frank has to admit he's really not the one to be throwing stones when it comes to trudging through while you're sick. Mikey's going to be fine, is the important thing.

Frank walks up to the bed and reaches out without really thinking about it, gently pushing Mikey's hair back from his forehead, before trailing his fingers over his eyebrows and temples. Mikey coughs a little and opens his eyes.

"Frank?" Mikey asks, blinking up at him.

"Hey," Frank smiles. "How you feeling?"

Mikey swallows, then coughs, and doesn't stop. He's wheezing, and Frank smooths a hand down his chest and reaches for a glass of water.

"Guess that answers that question," Frank says when they get Mikey's cough back under control and he's slowly sipping the water.

"Fuck," Mikey says. His breathing's shallow, his face even paler than it was before; the bags under his eyes seem darker against the contrast. "I didn't think it would get this bad."

Frank huffs and leans against the bed, cards his fingers through Mikey's hair. "You got pneumonia, Mikeyway. Why the fuck were you going to _work_ like this?"

Mikey shrugs and closes his eyes. His breath rattles in his chest. "So tired," he whispers. "My brain's all clogged up. Chest hurts."

Frank moves his hand to Mikey's chest, rubs it gently. "Gerard called," he says.

Mikey opens his eyes, looks up at him. "Yeah?"

"He said he's gonna kick your ass. Or something along those lines. And that he loves you."

Mikey smiles and shuts his eyes again.

"He's on his way here right now," Frank adds.

"Okay," Mikey whispers. His breathing's slowing down, Frank can tell he's about to fall asleep again. 

Frank wants to ask him so many things—what have he and Gerard been up to, why didn't Mikey tell Gerard he was sick; do they hate Frank now, after he said no to them? He settles on, "I promised I'll look after you while he gets here."

Mikey slowly blinks his eyes open and smiles. "Good," he says. His eyes falling shut again, he adds, "You should get on the bed, then." His breathing evens out and he's asleep before Frank gets a chance to say anything.

Frank knows he shouldn't—he's a nurse, not a visitor, but Mikey asked, and he realizes he really doesn't want to say no to Mikey, not again. Not when what he's asking for this time is something Frank can give. He checks that the door is firmly closed and hopes to hell that none of the doctors or other nurses will come in. He'll stay just for a bit; it shouldn't take Gerard that long to get here.

The bed creaks as Frank climbs on it, but he's careful not to jostle Mikey too much and careful of the lines attached. Mikey doesn't wake as Frank settles into a sitting position and shifts his legs toward Mikey, but he tilts his head to the side, so it's almost touching Frank's midriff.

Mikey's breathing is still shallow, and his forehead feels hot, but he looks calm now, in a way he didn't when Frank first came in. Frank smiles, and keeps petting Mikey's hair as he waits for Gerard to arrive.

~

Frank starts when the door opens and almost considers quickly jumping off from the bed, but it's just Jamia showing Gerard in. She just shoots him an amused look, but doesn't say anything, backs out of the room instead, and Frank's so fucking grateful it wasn't any of the other nurses. What the fuck was he thinking, climbing up here.

He stops berating himself for that when he sees Gerard's face. Gerard's stopped near the doors, his eyes on Mikey, his face pale and drawn. Frank climbs down from the bed and goes to him, touches his elbow. Gerard's wearing a long brown jacket, the fabric too thick for him to feel Frank's touch, so Frank moves his hand down instead and takes Gerard's hand.

"Hey," he says. "He's fine. His vitals are good, he's going to be okay."

"I—" Gerard swallows hard and runs a hand through his hair, his other hand lax in Frank's grip.

"Gerard," Frank repeats, and laces their fingers together. "He's going to be fine."

Gerard takes a deep breath and squeezes Frank's hand. "Fuck," he says. "Okay."

"Gee," comes Mikey's voice. Frank immediately lets go of Gerard's hand and turns around. Mikey's blinking at them, looking exhausted, but determined. He moves his hand, just a little, as if he's reaching out for Gerard.

Gerard's next to the bed in a flash, his hand covering Mikey's. "Mikey, hey, I'm here."

Mikey furrows his brow as he squints up at Gerard. "What happened to your glasses?"

Gerard's free hand flies to the little orange sunglasses perched on his head. If Frank squints he thinks he can see a crack on one side. "I dropped them," he says.

"And then you put them back on your head," Mikey says slowly, and smiles.

Gerard huffs and lifts Mikey's hand, kisses it. "Mikeyway, we have got to stop meeting like this," he says. He sounds so tired. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Mikey looks away. His eyes meet Frank's. Frank doesn't know what Mikey sees on his face, if there is anything to see, but he sighs, and looks back at Gerard.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"You're so stupid," Gerard says, and kisses Mikey's forehead. "You're fucking lucky I love you so much."

Mikey rolls his eyes, but Frank can see he's smiling. He suddenly feels like he's intruding, like he should leave. Gerard's speaking quietly now, his words only for Mikey, and Frank turns to head toward the door.

He bangs his hip against a table with a loud clatter and squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing the shout of pain.

"Shit, Frankie, you okay?" Gerard asks. Frank turns around, waving one hand and pressing the other against his hip. Shit, that's gonna bruise.

"I'm fine," he says. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Gerard asks, sounding bewildered. Frank bites his lip, feeling stupid. He looks at Mikey who has his eyebrows raised in concern.

"I'm fine," Frank says again. "I'm just gonna—"

Before he gets the chance to finish the sentence, Gerard strides over to him and pulls him into a hug. Frank hesitates only for a second before resting his head against Gerard's shoulder and hugging him back.

"Thanks for looking after him," Gerard whispers. Frank wants to argue—he's just doing his job, and, regardless, Gerard doesn't need to thank him—but then Gerard adds, "Thanks for looking after me, too." Frank shuts his eyes and doesn't say anything.

He leaves soon after that, leaves the two of them curled up on the bed together—and it's so weird to see that again, yet so familiar—and goes to Jamia.

She doesn't say anything, just bumps her shoulder against his and hands him a file. Frank takes a deep breath and goes to check on another patient.

~

Mikey's moved to a wing that Frank doesn't usually work. He thinks about still going by his room, thinks about it a lot, but he's busy, and whenever he gets off his shifts he's tired, and somehow it's two days later and Greta catches him coming out of a patient's room and says that a Gerard is looking for him.

Frank doesn't have to go far, Gerard's waiting for him by the nurses' desk. "Hey," Gerard says as Frank walks up to him. "He's getting released today." 

Gerard's smiling, but he looks tired and worn, and Frank feels abruptly guilty for not checking up on them. He knows he shouldn't, he really _was_ busy, and his patients come first, but he can't shake the feeling.

"That's great," he says, trying to give Gerard a bright smile in return. He can't stop himself from saying, "I'm sorry I haven't been around."

Gerard waves his hand. "Don't be silly, you're busy. All the other nurses were really nice, it's fine. In fact, I may have a new favorite nurse."

Frank raises his eyebrows, amused. "Really?"

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Well, no. You're still the best, Frankie. But really, you don't have to worry, everyone was really cool."

Frank smiles, then shrugs awkwardly. "So...Mikey's doing okay?"

"Yeah, he's much better," Gerard says, then frowns and turns to look behind him. "Actually, I should go," he says, sounding distracted. "I think they were doing like a last minute check-up or something, I don't know. So I'm gonna go and get him home now, but Frankie—" He turns back towards Frank and smiles. "Thanks for, you know, everything. And I really hope we'll see you around some time."

Frank swallows heavily and nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, of course."

Gerard smiles and touches Frank's shoulder before leaving. Frank watches him go and thinks about how he really wants to follow, wants to see how Mikey's doing for himself, wants to tell Gerard that he really needs to get some sleep, wants to watch over them both. How once Mikey's better and Gerard is rested, he wants to climb up on the bed with them, wants to kiss them, wants to fuck them.

None of this exactly new to him, he's wanted it for a long time, but for the first time he can't think of a reason why he shouldn't, why he can't at least _try_.

Frank shakes himself out of it, for now, and goes back to work. He has both of their numbers, he can think about this later. He doesn't think their invitation has expired. He really fucking hopes it hasn't.

~

"Just stay there," Gerard says. "I'll get it for you." He doesn't have to look back to know that Mikey's rolling his eyes.

"I can fucking walk," Mikey calls out after him. Gerard doesn't point out how Mikey's not getting up to follow him, though.

It's two days after they let Mikey out of the hospital, and he's doing fine—his fever's down, and he doesn't get actual coughing fits any more—but he's still tired, spending most of the day in bed or on the couch.

Gerard hates how familiar this feels, and he hates how Mikey's been to the hospital twice in less than six months, but he doesn't mind waiting on Mikey, never has.

He's on his way to the kitchen to get Mikey more orange juice when his phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket and stares at the caller-ID.

"Frank?" he asks as he picks up.

"Hey, Gerard," Frank says. "How are you?"

Gerard furrows his brow and opens the fridge, rummages through it. Why the fuck is the orange juice all the way in the back when he was just using it. "I'm good," he says. "We're good. What's up?"

"I was just—I kind of want to talk to you," Frank says. "Both of you."

"Oh," Gerard says. "What about?"

"Um," Frank says. "I was wondering if we could do it face to face? Are you in Jersey right now?"

"Oh," Gerard says again. He leaves the orange juice and heads to the bedroom.

Mikey's messing around on his phone, he looks up when Gerard comes in, tilts his head in question.

"Frank," Gerard mouths at him and Mikey widens his eyes.

"Gerard?" Frank asks. "You there?"

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Yeah, we're in Jersey. Uh, so where would you like to talk?"

Mikey drops his phone on his chest, starts moving his head and lifting his chin. Gerard frowns at him and shakes his head. He's not sure if Frank should come here when Mikey's still sick.

"I'm not sure," Frank says. "Maybe a coffee shop?"

Mikey widens his eyes again, and Gerard swears under his breath.

"Mikey thinks you should come here," he says. "Like, as soon as you want to."

"Oh," Frank says. "Huh. Would you be okay with that? I can come over tomorrow if you're cool with it."

Gerard mouths "tomorrow" at Mikey and Mikey cracks a wide smile.

"Yeah," Gerard says. "Yeah, I'm totally okay with that."

~

"What do you think he wants to talk about?" Mikey asks in between bites. They're in the kitchen, having something resembling breakfast. Mikey swore he was feeling good enough to sit up at the kitchen table, and so far he seems to be doing fine.

Frank said he was gonna come by before noon, after his night shift. It's close to noon by now, so Gerard figures he should be arriving soon.

"I don't know," Gerard says and takes another sip of coffee. Mikey looks at him forlornly. Gerard does his best to ignore him. "No coffee until you're better."

Mikey huffs, but doesn't argue. Instead, he says, "Do you think maybe he changed his mind?"

It's not the first time he's asked that, but it's the first time he's put it so bluntly, like he's expecting Gerard to give him an answer and have it be the right one.

Gerard sighs and looks down. "I don't know," he says. His phone rings then, and they both freeze.

"Hey," Frank says when Gerard picks up. "I'm downstairs? I think I am, at least."

Mikey's already moved to the window. "I see him," he says, looking back at Gerard. He's smiling and Gerard wants to say, "wait," wants to say, "we don't know for sure yet," but instead he smiles back and tells Frank the security code and their apartment number.

Frank drinks a whole cup of coffee before he even sits down.

"Wow," Gerard says as Frank holds his hand out for a refill, hopeful look on his face. "We just woke up, dude, what's your excuse?"

"I just had a sixteen hour shift," Franks says and sits down on a chair next to Mikey's.

Gerard winces in sympathy and hands Frank back the filled cup. Mikey's resting his elbows on the kitchen table, looking at Frank. Gerard can tell he's growing tired again.

Frank must be able to tell, too, because he nudges Mikey's foot with his own and asks, "How you holding up, Mikey?"

Mikey shrugs and smiles. "I'm fine."

Frank snorts. "You're falling asleep. Come on, we should—I mean." He stops and looks up at Gerard, suddenly looking unsure, but Gerard just nods at him.

"Let's go to the couch," Gerard says and reaches out to pull Mikey to his feet.

"So," Mikey says, once they've settled in the living room—Mikey and Gerard on one edge of the couch, with Mikey leaning against Gerard's chest, and Frank on the other. "What did you want to talk about?"

Gerard tightens his hold on Mikey's waist, rests his head against Mikey's. Frank's fidgeting, twisting his hands together.

"I was just wondering," he says, "whether your, uh, invitation is still—I mean, whether you still would like to try a relationship. With me."

He swallows hard and looks at both of them in turn. His face is expectant, and fuck, he looks so nervous and _hopeful_. Mikey reaches down and squeezes Gerard's fingers.

Gerard takes a deep breath. "We—are you serious?" he blurts out. He can't help asking. He doesn't want to question Frank, but fuck, he just wants to be _sure_ , for himself and for Mikey.

Frank nods, his face earnest. "Yes," he says. "Yeah, I'm really fucking serious."

Mikey pushes himself up, scoots toward Frank on the couch. He grabs on to Frank's hand, says, voice serious, "You really want to try this?"

"Yeah," Frank says. "I—"

"Do you think it can work?" Mikey asks, and Gerard reaches out, touches Mikey's shoulder. He moves forward on the couch as well, wraps his arms around Mikey again, looks at Frank.

Frank looks at Gerard, then back at Mikey. He nods. "I really want it to work," he says. "I'm willing to try hard to make it work."

Mikey doesn't let go of Frank's hand, rests his other hand on top of Gerard's on his waist. "I guess that will have to do," he says. Gerard can tell he's smiling.

Frank gives him a brilliant smile back. "Are you—are you sure?" he asks, looking at both of them.

They both nod, and Gerard says, "We really want it to work, too."

Frank beams some more, then leans slowly forward, towards Mikey. Gerard holds his breath, because fuck, Frank's about to kiss Mikey and he's suddenly hit with how badly he wants to see that. Mikey must be holding his breath as well, because he huffs and then starts coughing.

He doesn't stop right away and Gerard pulls him flush against him, rubs a hand down Mikey's chest. "Easy," he says as Mikey's cough wheezes to a stop.

"Shit, sorry, I totally forgot," Frank says, and reaches up to push the hair out of Mikey's eyes. Gerard sees him hesitate, but only for a second. "Mikeyway, you have got to get better," he says. "Because I really want to kiss you. But I really don't want to get pneumonia."

Mikey takes a couple of deep breaths, then says, "You can kiss Gerard."

Frank cracks a smile and looks at Gerard. "Don't worry, I'm planning on doing that as well." Gerard bites his lip and looks down, feeling his face flush. What the fuck, since when does he blush at someone saying they want to kiss him. But it's the look in Frank's eyes, the obvious desire there, that sends him over the edge.

Mikey's body grows heavier against Gerard and Gerard presses a kiss to his head. "We should get you to bed," he says.

"I'm fine," Mikey argues, but lets them help him up and maneuver him into the bedroom. He's out before Gerard's finished pulling the blankets over him.

"He's still really tired," he tells Frank. Frank reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

"That's common," he says. "He'll get better soon." He looks down at Mikey and Gerard sucks in a sharp breath, because the expression on Frank's face is—

Frank looks up quickly, then steps back. "I should go," he says. "Let him get some rest."

"You can stay," Gerard says. "You're tired too, you can sleep on the couch."

Frank smiles at him. "Thanks," he says. "Maybe some other day."

"But—"

"Gerard," Frank says, and steps closer again. "I'm not saying no, okay. Not again." His eyes are big and bright and Gerard really wants to kiss him.

"Oh, just fucking kiss him," Mikey says, startling both of them. Gerard turns and looks at him; he's curled up on his side, watching them avidly.

"Mikey, I—"

But Mikey looks past him at Frank and nods.

Frank turns Gerard around, gently, and leans up to press his lips to Gerard's. Gerard makes a soft sound, then settles his hands on Frank's waist and kisses him back. The kiss is slow, and good, so fucking good. Frank licks into his mouth, and pulls him closer, and Gerard really doesn't want him to leave.

Eventually, though, Frank pulls back. His lips are shining, and his eyes are big, gaze heavy. He smiles, suddenly, and it's so bright, Gerard has to grin back.

Frank looks at Mikey, then, and Gerard turns as well. Mikey's blinking slowly, and Gerard can tell he's almost out, but he looks satisfied. Gerard smiles at him and Mikey winks. Frank lets out a soft laugh.

"Get better fast, Mikeyway," he says, and pulls Gerard into a hug.

"I'll be sure to," Mikey says, and then he's asleep.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Gerard asks as he's letting Frank out the door. "You seem really tired."

"I'm good," Frank says. "I'm just gonna go home and crash. I'll call you later, okay."

"Okay," Gerard says. 

He's barely settled down next to Mikey on the bed when his phone beeps with a new message.

_screaming baby + a dude who smells fucking nasty next to me. Save me._

Gerard grins down at his phone and starts texting Frank about his own worst public transport experiences. Mikey's breathing is slow and steady next to him.

~

"You don't know?" Jamia asks, raising her eyebrows. "You don't—"

"No, J, okay," Frank says. "I don't fucking know."

She squints at him and takes a drag of her beer. "You don't know if your boyfriends are good in bed."

Frank buries his head in his hands. He hasn't properly seen Gerard and Mikey since Mikey's recovered and they both went back to work. Sure, they've called, mostly texted, but the fact is Frank hasn't done more than just kissed Gerard—slow, lazy kisses as Mikey watched with warmth in his eyes—and he's starting to wonder whether and when that's gonna fucking change.

"So," Jamia says. "When are you planning on finding out?"

"I don't know," Frank shrugs. "Like, they already have each other, who says they even want—"

Jamia kicks him in the shin.

"Ow, the fuck?"

"Shut up," Jamia says. "And fucking call them."

"But—"

"What?" Jamia asks. "You can't give me the whole 'I'm too busy for a relationship' excuse again, we're out at a fucking bar on a Thursday evening."

Frank frowns. "It's not—I'm not too busy for them, okay. _They're_ the ones who are busy. Right now."

Jamia narrows her eyes. "Have you even asked them?" Frank sighs. "You haven't," she says. "For fuck's sake, Frank, just call them up and say—"

"And say what?" Frank interrupts her.

"Hi, this is Frank, your boyfriend. I kind of want to have sex with you guys, does Sunday work for you?"

"Sounds pretty straightforward," Dewees says right next to his ear. Frank starts and almost spills his beer.

"Dewees, man, you scared the shit out of me."

Dewees grins at him. "I'm with Jamia," he says. "Call your..."

"Boyfriend," Frank says, and Jamia discreetly squeezes his elbow. She's the only one he's told.

"Call your boyfriend," Dewees says. "And just lay it out there."

Frank sighs and takes a sip of his beer. "Both of you," he points the bottle at Jamia then Dewees, "need to shut up."

"Aw, come on, Frankie," Dewees says, grinning. "We're just trying to help."

"Whatever." Frank rolls his eyes. He isn't pissed at them, not really, and it's not like it's bad advice. He wants to see Gerard and Mikey and he should call them for that alone, ask them when they have time to hang. But he's still not really sure about what exactly his place in their relationship is.

He can't figure that out without actually talking to them, though. He drains his beer and leads the conversation to another topic, vowing to himself that he'll do that soon.

~

It's Mikey who calls first. Frank's on his way to work when his phone goes off, the sound loud so early in the morning. Frank frowns at the caller ID before picking up—Mikey hardly ever calls, mostly he texts. 

"Mikey?" Frank asks. "Is something wrong?"

"Hey, Frank," Mikey says. "Why would something be wrong?"

Frank rolls his eyes. "You're calling me before seven in the morning." 

"Oh," Mikey says. "Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you got to work."

"Okay," Frank says slowly. "What is it?"

"You have tomorrow off, right?" Mikey asks.

"Yeah," Frank says, and sidesteps a puddle. The morning's cloudy, but at least it's not raining now and he doesn't have a long way to go. "Why?" 

"I'm going to Gerard's tonight. He's been working non-stop on his latest project, he, uh, got behind on it because I was sick." Frank holds back a sigh. Of course Mikey feels guilty and responsible. Damn those Way brothers. Then again, he knows he's not much better himself. "So, do you wanna come with?" 

"Oh," Frank says. He feels oddly warm. Mikey called him at fucking seven in the morning, to ask him—well, out. He didn't know Mikey even got up this early. "Tonight?" 

"Yeah," Mikey says. "We'll get pizza, watch movies. And stuff."

Frank grins.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay. What time are you leaving?" 

Mikey hums. "Six, I was thinking. You're off by then, right?"

Frank's reached the hospital by then, he drops his jacket at his locker and waves at Greta. "Yeah," he says. "I finish at five."

"Sweet," Mikey says. "Let's meet at the station?"

"Sure," Frank says. "I gotta go now, but I'll see you then."

"Bye, Frankie," Mikey says, and Frank can hear his smile over the phone.

He drops the phone in his bag and puts his stuff away, changes into his scrubs. He can't help it, he tries to play it cool, but he sees Jamia at the nurse's station, rushes over and pinches her side.

She swats at him, but then turns her full attention on him. "You're awfully cheerful this morning." She narrows her eyes.

"I have a date tonight," he grins.

Jamia raises her eyebrows. "With your—"

"Yes, with my boyfriends, god," Frank says. "They have names, you know."

She gives him a wicked grin. "Aw, but I like calling them your boyfriends."

Frank rolls his eyes, but he can't fight the smile. Fuck, he feels like his face is literally gonna split in half, this is ridiculous.

"You're ridiculous," Jamia tells him. But she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and says, "I'm glad you're happy, though."

He smiles at her—he really does like her best.

"Just don't get too fucking cocky," she says, then rolls her eyes. "What am I saying, that ship has sailed a long fucking time ago."

"Fuck you," Frank says, but he gives her a quick hug before rushing off to work.

~

Frank gets to the station just as it starts raining. He looks around and spots Mikey almost immediately. He's standing near a sign, staring at his phone.

He looks up when Frank walks over.

"Hey," Mikey says, smiling, his eyes twinkling. He shrugs one shoulder. "I'm germ free now."

Frank surges up and pulls him into a kiss, wraps his hands around Mikey's waist. Fuck, he's been waiting a long fucking time for this. Mikey pulls him close, his hands settling on Frank's shoulders, and kisses back; deep, biting kisses.

They pull apart after a while. Frank's painfully aware that they're in public, but fuck it, he's been _waiting_. He grins. "I'm germ free now?" he asks.

"Not a good line?" Mikey asks, smiling.

Frank laughs and shakes his head, pulls Mikey close again. He clings to him, and Mikey rubs his hand over Frank's back. The train rolls in then and Frank pulls away reluctantly. Mikey keeps a hand on his back, though, and together they shuffle onto the train.

They're lucky enough to find two empty seats next to each other and Mikey pushes Frank into the window seat, folds down next to him.

They chat for a bit about their workday, but then Mikey yawns suddenly. Frank raises his eyebrows, pulls him close with a hand on around his shoulders. "Tired?" he asks.

"Guess I'm still getting over the pneumonia," Mikey says. "I get tired more easily."

Frank makes an understanding noise and the nape of Mikey's neck. "That's normal," he says. "You can try to sleep for a bit."

Mikey stifles another yawn, then rolls his eyes at himself and huffs.

"Hey, come here," Frank says and tugs at Mikey till he slouches down in the seat and leans his head on Frank's shoulder.

Mikey dozes for most of the trip. Frank tries really hard to stay awake, but he must nod off at some point, because he wakes to lips brushing his neck and Mikey's hand pressing against his belly.

Frank covers Mikey's hand with his own, tangles their fingers together. "Fuck, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Mikey shrugs and pulls back a little. "Now you know how I feel."

Frank laughs. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

Mikey frowns a little, and Frank explains. "Long work-hours, plus I used to be sick a lot when I was a kid."

"Oh," Mikey says, and presses a kiss to his cheek. "That sucks."

Frank shrugs. "Yeah, well. I'm better now, so." The train pulls in then and Mikey gets up, pulling Frank with him. He doesn't let go of Frank's hand.

~

Mikey's the one who pushes him against the door of Gerard's apartment and proceeds to kiss the shit out of him. Frank hadn't been expecting Mikey to be so aggressive, but he likes it. He really fucking likes it.

They kiss by the door for a bit, Mikey's hands on Frank's hips, Frank's arms around Mikey's waist. "Where's Gerard?" Frank finally manages to pant out.

"He'll be home soon," Mikey says. "I just couldn't wait." And he leans back in.

They somehow manage to stumble to the couch, and Frank pushes Mikey down and climbs on top. Mikey groans and the noise goes straight to Frank's dick. He leans down to kiss Mikey's neck, because seriously, Mikey's neck is just _waiting_ to be kissed. And bitten.

Frank doesn't hear the door open and close, but he does hear Gerard say, "Aw, you guys started without me."

Frank pulls back from Mikey and grins at Gerard. "You were late."

Gerard's standing by the door, hip cocked and smiling. He drops his bag and walks over to the couch, runs his hand through Mikey's hair and leans down to kiss him. Frank almost gasps. It's not that he hasn't seen them kiss before, but this time it's different. This time they want him to see.

"You know, we have a much bigger bed," Gerard says, and Frank stumbles off the couch. Gerard grins and pulls Mikey up as well.

The bed is, indeed, bigger. Gerard takes control now, and pushes Frank down on it. He pulls Mikey to him, whispers something in his ear. Frank watches avidly as Mikey nods. Mikey's gaze settles on Frank and he climbs up on the bed and straddles Frank's thighs.

"Gerard wants to fuck you," Mikey says and grinds down against Frank's hard-on. Frank gasps and digs his fingers into the comforter. He looks up at Gerard, who has taken off his jeans and is walking up to the bed as well. Gerard buries his hand in Mikey's hair and Mikey pushes up into the touch.

"And what about you?" Frank chokes out. "What do you want?"

"He wants to blow you," Gerard says and fuck, fuck, it's so hot, them telling him what the other wants.

Frank nods fast, and Mikey goes for his jeans, gets them unzipped and pulls them down. Gerard sits down on the edge of the bed and pushes Frank's shirt up a bit, runs his fingers over Frank's belly, over his tattoos. "You like them?" Frank asks, and Gerard throws him a quick grin, scratches at the soft skin there.

"Fuck," Frank groans, and he hears Mikey laugh. Mikey shuffles back on the bed and leans down, mouths at Frank's cock through his briefs. "Fuck, fuck, Mikey. Do it already."

"You have to beg him for it," Gerard says.

"Please." Fuck, Frank's so hard, he needs Mikey's mouth, _needs_ it. "Please, Mikey, please, please—"

Mikey frees Frank's cock and takes it into his mouth, going almost all the way down. 

"Fuck, oh fuck."

Frank opens his eyes and looks at the two of them and he almost swallows his tongue; Gerard's hand is still in Mikey's hair and he's _guiding_ Mikey as he sucks on Frank's cock, Gerard's gaze intent on Mikey.

"Fuck," Frank pants out. He throws his head back and lifts his hips, he can't fucking help it. Mikey makes a low sound, and Frank more feels it than hears it. "Sorry, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Gerard says and suddenly he's right next to Frank, leaning down to kiss him. "He likes it."

Frank groans and bucks up again, into Mikey's mouth. Gerard keeps kissing him, his teeth scraping Frank's bottom lip. "Why are you still wearing a shirt?" he murmurs and Frank shakes his head, because he doesn't fucking know.

Gerard pushes Frank's shirt up and helps him pull it off. His hands immediately go to Frank's tattoos. "Fuck, Mikes," he says. "You gotta see these."

Frank's getting close, he knows, but at Gerard's words, Mikey pulls off. Frank lets out a whine, reaches out toward him.

"Shh," Gerard says. "Not yet." Frank breathes out harshly, and balls his hands into fists. "Can you wait, Frank?" Gerard asks. "For me? For Mikey?."

Frank nods, desperate. Yes, yes, he can wait.

"Fuck," Mikey says, voice sounding raw. He trails his fingers from Frank's belly up his chest. Frank realizes suddenly that he's squeezing his eyes shut, so he opens them, and fuck, Gerard's and Mikey's _faces_. They're both studying his tattoos, gazes matching, intense.

Frank's belly is quivering under their wandering hands, and fuck, he's so hard, he fucking needs to get off, but he said, he said he could wait, and with Gerard and Mikey looking at him like that, he wants to.

Gerard raises his gaze then and meets Frank's eyes, smiles. He leans down again for a kiss, and mumbles, "You're fucking beautiful, Frank. Been wanting to see these for so long." He kisses Frank until he's panting again, and all the while Mikey's running his hands over Frank's chest, and belly, and sides, leaving kisses in his wake.

Gerard pulls away, and there's the sound of a drawer opening. Frank turns his head to see Gerard take out lube and condoms, pass them to Mikey.

"Mikey's gonna prepare you for me," Gerard says, right in his ear.

Frank shivers. "Won't take a lot," he says, breathless, and Gerard makes an appreciative noise.

Mikey's fingers are thin and so fucking long, holy fuck. It's not like Frank hadn't looked at his fingers before and thought about this, but fuck, this is—fuck. Frank's right, it doesn't take long, but Mikey still draws it out, until Frank's begging for it.

"Shh," Gerard says again, and then he's moving down the bed. Frank quickly lifts his head, and fuck, Gerard's kissing Mikey, and Mikey's fingers are still inside Frank. Frank doesn't even want to fucking move or do anything to remind them of him in this very moment, because he doesn't want to interrupt them. Gerard's hand is buried in Mikey's hair, and they're both flushed and so fucking gorgeous.

Eventually Frank can't help it, though. He grinds down on Mikey's fingers and Mikey breaks the kiss and smirks at Frank, pulling them out.

"Fuck," Frank pants. "Come on, Mikey, fuck, just—just fucking, _Gee_."

They both look so fucking satisfied with themselves and it's driving Frank over the edge. "Please," he says, and Gerard rubs at his thigh in response and murmurs, "Just a minute, Frankie."

They go so fucking _slow_ , Mikey putting the condom on Gerard and slicking him up, kissing him all the while. Finally, fucking finally, Mikey pulls away and crawls up to Frank and kisses him, as Gerard pushes inside and starts slowly fucking him.

Frank won't last long, he knows, and he's desperate for someone to just fucking _touch_ him, but Gerard's hands are on his hips and Mikey's on his chest and shoulder. He reaches down himself, but Mikey catches his hand and tangles their fingers together.

"Fuck, come on, Mikey," Frank begs, but Mikey just brings their joined hands to rest on Frank's chest and kisses him, again and again, until Frank's mouth feels raw.

Gerard's thrusts are getting faster, and he keeps talking, telling Frank how fucking hot he is, how good he feels, and it's going straight to Frank's dick, and seriously, if someone doesn't touch him soon—

"Please," Frank says, because Gerard said Mikey liked it when he begged, so he repeats it, over and over again. Mikey shushes him with a kiss, more gentle than the others, and reaches down and finally wraps his hand around Frank's dick, and Frank's coming, spilling all over Mikey's fist and his belly, his body shuddering.

His head feels hazy, his whole body spent, and Mikey keeps kissing him, slow, and running his fingers over Frank's chest, as Gerard fucks into him and soon comes with a shout.

Frank's barely aware of Gerard pulling out, but soon Gerard's up there, pressed up close, tugging at Mikey's jeans.

"How are you still wearing jeans?" Frank asks, voice thick and slow. He blinks at them lazily, and he wishes his brain was more online because the sight of Gerard leaning down to lick Mikey's belly, bite his hipbone, is really fucking great.

There's a blush high on Mikey's cheeks and Frank concentrates on that, on the way Mikey's mouth opens and closes, the way he's rapidly blinking and making these little _sounds_ as Gerard jerks him off.

Mikey comes with a whimper, and Frank closes his eyes, satisfied. He blinks them open again when the bed shifts, sees that it's Mikey heading for the bathroom.

Gerard curls up close to Frank, throws his arm over Frank's chest.

"Why does Mikey have to clean up?" Frank asks, yawning.

"Older brother perks," Gerard says and Frank giggles.

Mikey's back soon enough and he gently wipes the washcloth over Frank's belly, then throws it on the floor. Frank wrinkles his nose, but no, he's too beat to even formulate something in response to that. Mikey climbs on the bed and lies down on Frank's other side, throws his leg over Frank's and cuddles close.

"Hey," Frank says, remembering. "You promised me pizza and a movie."

Mikey chuckles, the air warm against Frank's neck.

"Are you complaining?" Gerard asks. He's running his hand over Frank's chest, and Frank shakes his head.

"Nope," he says. "No, I'm totally good."

"I did think we could watch _Jaws_ later," Mikey says, and Gerard laughs, delighted. Frank falls asleep to the sound of them discussing whether to go with that or _Empire Strikes Back_ instead.

~

_One month later_

"Mikey, come the fuck on," Gerard calls over his shoulder. "Your stupid movies are fine."

Mikey calls back something mostly unintelligible, but Gerard hasn't known him for most of his life for nothing. He rolls his eyes and says, "He didn't drop the fucking box, Mikes. He tripped over the fucking table, but he didn't fucking drop it, now come _on_."

He looks at Frank who's holding another large box and rolls his eyes. Frank quirks his lip at him in return and moves past him to take the box into Gerard and Mikey's bedroom.

Fuck, their bedroom. Gerard's so fucking excited about Mikey finally, properly, moving in. He can't stop himself from just grabbing onto Mikey and kissing him whenever he walks past—his neck, his hair, his lips. Mikey just rolls his eyes and pushes him away, but Gerard can tell he's excited as well.

Since they got Frank to help with the moving, Gerard can just direct his attention to him, push him against the wall and bury his fingers into Frank's hair as he claims his mouth.

Frank always kisses him back, eager and hot, until Mikey sneaks between them and says that they're wasting precious time that could be later spent on the bed—Gerard's still planning on buying a new, larger one; he's hoping Frank will be around more often than not and the current one just barely holds the three of them. But other than that, Frank's been weirdly quiet.

Gerard catches him by the arm as Frank walks past him to go and bring in another box. "Hey," he says. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Frank says, but he doesn't meet Gerard's eyes.

"Frank," Mikey says, and Gerard looks up to find him standing at the doorway of the living room. Frank looks back at him and sighs, tugs his arm away from Gerard. He wraps his arms around himself and leans against the wall. Gerard frowns.

"It's just—" Frank starts, then stops and sighs again. "I was just thinking that you don't have much of a reason to come by Jersey any more."

Gerard gapes at him, then looks at Mikey whose eyebrows are almost up near his hairline. Frank's still looking down, avoiding their glances.

Gerard can't at first believe that Frank would even think something like that—the past month has been great, even though they've all been busy with work. Doesn't Frank feel the same? How can he think they'll just leave him? 

Gerard relies all this to Mikey via eyebrows, who purses his lips in return, then says, "Frank, we're still gonna come to Jersey. It's just now we're all gonna have to crash at your place."

Frank looks up, obviously startled. "But—"

Gerard wrinkles his nose. "You're really gonna need a bigger bed, though."

"Yeah," Mikey says. "I don't want to fall down again."

"Guys," Frank says, and they both quiet down. Frank waves his arms at them. "I just—"

"You were just being stupid," Gerard says, and Frank huffs.

"Don't call Frank stupid, Gee," Mikey says, and steps up to Frank, grabs him by the belt loops. He leans down and kisses him. Frank's hands fall on Mikey's hips and he kisses back eagerly. Gerard's content just to stand there and watch them—for just a little while.

He walks up to them and runs his fingers over the side of Frank's face, over his throat. He presses down on the bruise he knows Mikey left near Frank's collarbone, making him gasp into Mikey's mouth.

"But—" Frank pulls back, panting. "But you guys will be here most of the time, and I—"

"Hey," Gerard says and wraps one arm around Mikey's waist, leaning against him, and buries his other hand in Frank's hair, then trails it down the side of Frank's face, cups his cheek. "We'll make it work."

"Yeah?" Frank asks, his eyes wide and hopeful, and Gerard can see that Frank wants this to work, of _course_ he does. They're just going to have to remind him where he stands more often, that they want him, too.

"Yeah," Mikey says and pulls them into a group hug. "That's what we do."

**Author's Note:**

> Extras!
> 
>  **Fanmix:**  
> [Replace our Fear with our Faith](http://annemari.dreamwidth.org/316378.html) by [](http://monkey_pie.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://monkey_pie.livejournal.com/)**monkey_pie**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] You're a Matter of Urgency](https://archiveofourown.org/works/883646) by [argentumlupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine)




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